


Forsaken Memories

by SaruXIII



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaruXIII/pseuds/SaruXIII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mukuro wakes up in a room filled with Ultimate High School students. She doesn't remember who she is or how she got there. How will Junko's killing game unfold with the addition of this rogue element? AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A.N. Hi everyone! Welcome to my first foray into Danganronpa fanfiction! I was led into the fandom after becoming totally obsessed with the Persona series, and I’ve since fallen completely down the veritable rabbit-hole that is the Danganronpa fandom. 

I only really became interested in Mukuro’s character after completing all of the games for the first time. After learning her story through IF she immediately overshadowed Kyoko as my preferred waifu, haha. That being said, there was a depressing lack of Mukuro related works in the fanfiction community, so I’ve taken it upon myself to decrease that lack by at least one!

Please let me know what you think! My beta, Cazuki, is doing a good job of keeping me honest but please call me out if anything doesn’t line up.

Please sit back, grab a cup of coffee (or hot-chocolate, if that’s your thing) and enjoy the story!

OoOoOoOo

“…only one who hasn’t woken up yet. Maybe we…”

“She doesn’t have a fever… shouldn’t be too worried…she’ll…up…eventually…”

“…isn’t responding at all. Should we take her…office…”

Mukuro didn’t recognize the voices. They faded in and out, and she was having a hard time comprehending what they were saying. Her head felt like it was about to split open, which wasn’t exactly encouraging her to open her eyes.

A warm hand pressed against her forehead, prompting Mukuro to smack it away in annoyance. A girl’s scream pierced her ears and Mukuro jolted up into a sitting position, her eyes narrowed in anger. “What?” she demanded.

A young woman with long, straight black hair recoiled from her, a hand pressed to her mouth. “S-sorry. I w-was just checking on you.” She wore a sailor school uniform, with a large pink ribbon tied above her breasts.

Mukuro shook her head, putting her hands on either side to hold it together. “Sorry,” she muttered, closing her eyes against the piercing light of the room. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

“We do not know!” another voice answered. Mukuro risked opening one eye to see an intense looking boy standing over her. He wore a white uniform, and his black hair was short and spikey. 

“Do you think fourteen is it? Seems like an odd number for a classroom,” said another girl. She looked like an athlete, judging by her physique and red tracksuit. 

Mukuro winced as the boy standing over her spoke loudly. “This must be it! It is now eight o’clock, should anyone show up now they will be considered tardy! This is unacceptable, especially on the first day of class! A young man or woman should always put their best foot forward!”

As if on cue, the room’s door swung open and another person walked in. Mukuro couldn’t see much from where she sat on the floor. It appeared to be a young man, probably around her own age. “H-hello?” he said, coming up short as he saw the crowd of teenagers.

The intense boy rounded on the newcomer, his obnoxious voice driving daggers into her throbbing skull. “This is unacceptable! How dare you be late for your first day of schooling! Are you ready to accept full responsibility for this transgression?”

“Geez, could you be any louder?” Mukuro groaned, climbing gingerly to her feet. She swayed, almost crumpling to the floor before she managed to right herself. Even the effort of standing made the cacophony inside her skull several magnitudes worse. Zeus must have had an easier time with Athena banging around inside his head.

“Do not start with me! Do I need to mention that you were sleeping in class? This is also an actionable offense, would you like a demerit as well? I will not put up with this sort of behavior from my own classmates!”

Mukuro’s fingers curled into a fist that grew tighter with every word spoken by the suit-wearing shrimp. Each word he shouted was another dagger in her aching skull, and she couldn't take it any longer. Her nails cut painfully into her palms as she took several stiff strides towards the offending party, but froze when the dark-haired girl from earlier stepped up and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

“Everyone calm down. We’re all just a little confused, aren’t we? I’m sure he didn’t even know what time it was. You’ll do better next time, right?” she asked, looking over at the boy who’d just walked in. He nodded dumbly, prompting her to continue, “Good. It’s settled.”

The intense looking boy smiled. “You are right. I’m afraid I may have been a little too gung-ho with my earlier attitude. Everyone please accept my humblest of apologies for my rudeness!” He stood ramrod straight and gave a stiff bow.

The group proceeded to introduce themselves and explain what had gotten them invited to join Hope’s Peak Academy. Mukuro was hardly able to pay attention; most of her brainpower was focused on ignoring the pain in her head. She made sure to note everyone’s names, but picked up very little of everything else.

It was because of this that she didn’t notice at first when it came time for her to introduce herself. “What?” she asked dumbly, realizing that everyone was staring at her.

“What’s your name and talent?” Hifumi asked, adjusting his wire-frame glasses on his round face.

“Oh… Um… My name is Mukuro Ikusaba…” she trailed off. What was her talent? She remembered that she’d been scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy because she excelled in her field; what field did she excel at?

“It appears that I’m not the only one who cannot recall their talent.” Kyoko said, touching her chin with one gloved hand. “I wonder why that could be?”

Mukuro bit her lip, trying to sort through the cloud of pain that was her thoughts. Why couldn’t she remember? She could feel them there, right below the surface; but every time she thought she was close, the memories would swim out of her reach. Then they’d give her a slap in the head for her trouble.

The large television that hung over the room flickered to life. It showed nothing at first, but the rough outline of something that could have been a head quickly coalesced out of the static. “Hello?”

A wave of nausea washed over Mukuro as the voice spoke. She doubled over, puking a mixture of bile and what had once been food all over the floor. No one seemed to notice, more concerned with what the television was saying. At least, that was what Mukuro thought until someone gently touched her on the arm. 

“Come here, you should sit down.” Mukuro recognized him as Makoto Naegi. He was the boy who’d come into the room last. Not seeing any reason to argue, she allowed him to lead her over to the wall and help her take a seat on the floor. “Are you still feeling nauseous?”

Mukuro shook her head, bringing up a hand to wipe cold sweat from her brow. “No, whatever it was seems to have passed.” Indeed, even the headache that had plagued her since she’d woken up was beginning to ease its hold on her. But why had the voice made her react so negatively? Even now, she couldn’t quite bring herself to look at the screen; even thinking about the voice threatened to set her stomach to churning again.

“Um…you haven’t said much since we got here. Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Makoto leaned against the wall and slid down to sit beside her.

Mukuro turned to him. It was the first good look she’d gotten of him since he’d come into the room. He was a little shorter than she was, with messy brown hair and a boyish face. He looked familiar, but any effort she gave to place his face only made her head threaten to continue its attempted schism. “No. I don’t even know what I had for breakfast this morning. Recent events would lead me to believe oatmeal, but at this point I can’t be sure.”

Makoto laughed, and in that instant Mukuro’s sense of reality shifted. The world around her melted away, and suddenly she was in a classroom. Makoto was still sitting next to her, but they were in desks, not on the floor. He was smiling at, edging in closer for a class photo. Her face was hot, and her heart was thudding in her chest as he pulled her in closer. He was so close she could smell him. In that one moment she was so happy she felt like she was going to burst.

Then it was over. She was once again sitting in the unfamiliar room, surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Except now, one of them wasn’t as unfamiliar as before. 

“Do I have something on my face?” 

“Huh?” she asked, caught off guard by his question.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You were staring at me like I’d grown a second head. I was worried I might still have some drool on my face from where I was sleeping.”

Her face turned red. “No…um…I’m sorry. I spaced out there for a second…”

“You two gonna kiss or what?” the red-haired boy named Leon asked, arching an eyebrow at them.

Mukuro hastily jumped to her feet, occupying herself with smoothing her skirt out. As she was completing this important task, she noticed that the others had all left the room. The only people left were herself, Makoto, and Leon.

Makoto laughed sheepishly. “We were just talking. She’s just a little sick is all.” 

Leon followed Makoto’s gaze to the puddle of vomit on the floor. He made a face, shaking his head. “Isn’t it a little early in the relationship for morning sickness?” He chuckled at his own joke before stepping towards the exit. “Whatever. Monokuma wants us to meet in the gym. Thought I’d let you two lovebirds know.”

“Mono…kuma?” Mukuro said. The name tasted like bile on her tongue.

“You know, the guy on the tv? I suggest you do what he says, I think he means business.” With that, Leon walked out of the room, leaving them alone.

Mukuro helped Makoto to his feet and together they followed Leon out into the hall. The sickness Mukuro had been feeling had all but faded out of existence, but was replaced with a general sense of uneasiness that was almost worse. It was clear that she knew Makoto from somewhere, but she just couldn’t remember where; judging from his attitude Makoto didn’t recognize her at all. What was wrong with her?

“Is that a real tattoo?” Makoto asked, pointing at her hand.

Mukuro raised her right hand, glancing down at the wolf’s head. “Yeah, I got it when I joined…” She paused. “I got it when I joined…something…” She bit her lip, growling in frustration.

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” Mukuro said, a little more sharply than she’d intended. She sighed. “Sorry. It’s weird. I remember getting the tattoo. I remember it was in commemoration of me joining some group or club… I even remember the face of the guy who put it on me.”

Makoto smiled his easy smile. “I’m sure it’ll come to you eventually.,” he said reassuringly. 

Mukuro returned the smile. He had no way of knowing, of course, but hearing him say that still made her feel better for some reason. “You’re probably right.”

They reached the door to the gym as it swung closed behind Leon. Makoto reached for the handle, but Mukuro put her hand on the door, stopping him short. “Listen, Makoto. I don’t know what it is, but something seems really off about this. We need to be careful, okay?”

For a moment she thought Makoto was going to laugh her off. She had no proof, and he’d only just met her. He had no reason to put any stock in her gut feeling, but he only nodded solemnly, giving her a meaningful look. Maybe he felt it, too. “Yeah, you’re right.”

They entered the gym together. The other students were all gathered in front of the large stage that made up the majority of the front wall. The muscle-bound girl who towered over everyone else nodded towards them as they entered. “Good, looks like we’re all here.”

A high-pitched voice filled the room, making Mukuro’s stomach drop into her feet. “Hello? Howdy! Is everyone here? Then let’s get this show on the road.” From behind the table that was sitting on the stage, a two-toned teddy bear climbed into view.

“A teddy bear?” Chihiro asked, tilting her head to the side.

The bear glared at the crowd of students. “I am not a teddy bear! I am Monokuma!” he announced proudly, raising his arms. “I’m your headmaster!”

“What the fuck is this thing? Some kind of remote controlled toy or something?” Mondo said, staring angrily at Monokuma.

The bear somehow managed to look dejected. “That’s just cold. Comparing me to a child’s plaything is so not fair. This cuts me. It cuts me deeper than the Mariana Trench…I seriously can’t bear this grizzly treatment.”

Celeste covered her mouth with one manicured hand. “Bear? Grizzly? You are…unfortunate.”

Monokuma ignored her. “We really must be moving on.”

He was acting like some kind of cute cartoon character, but Mukuro couldn’t shake the feeling that he was very dangerous. It was an act. He must be up to something terrible. Just looking at him made her legs feel like they were made of water. As if on que, her right knee buckled. She pitched forward with a muted yelp, and stuck her hands out to catch herself on something. That something just happened to be Makoto.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and Makoto reacted by wrapping his around her waist as she fell against him. He was warm, and his arms were surprisingly strong for their size. She knew that her face was doing a fair impersonation of a tomato as she rushed to disentangle herself from Makoto’s arms. She was stammering out an apology when the voice from earlier made her freeze.

“Are you two lovebirds quite finished?” the bear called in a singsong voice, wrapping its arms around itself. “There aren’t any rules regarding public displays of affection at this school, but social etiquette dictates that such things be done out of view of your fellow students.”

All eyes in the room were now on her and Makoto. It didn’t seem possible, but her cheeks grew even hotter. She looked at him and saw that he was red too, and his gaze was fixed firmly on his feet. “I tripped,” she said between clenched teeth, giving those looking at them a scathing glare. 

“Okay everyone!” Monokuma announced, pulling everyone’s attention away from the two blushing teenagers. “Let’s forget about Makoto and Mukuro’s shameless display and start this right! Ready, and bow! Good morning!”

Kiyotaka -the boy who’d been threatening demerits earlier- was the only one who saw fit to comply. He bowed, all but screaming, “Good morning!”

“Let us commence with a most memorable entrance ceremony. First we will discuss your daily lives. As the sole remaining hopes of the world, you will live a communal life together within the confines of this school! You will get along, and you will adhere to the rules and regulations of the school. Am I clear? Good.”

“And when exactly will we be allowed to leave?” Sakura demanded, her bulging arms folded over her chest.

Monokuma laughed, waving his paw at her. “When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When time flows in reverse. When salty is sweet and sweet is salty! When the princess rescues the knight from the castle! In other words, never! You’re here until the day you die.”

“D-die?” Toko spluttered, clutching her chest.

“No need to worry, kiddos.” Monokuma looked proud as he rubbed the back of his head. “We have a healthy budget, so you’ll have all the conveniences of home!”

The dark-haired girl who’d helped diffuse the situation with Kiyotaka, Sayaka, spoke up. “No one’s worried about that right now!”

“This is a lie, there’s no way this is real!” The crazy-haired Yasuhiro said, clutching at his face in wild-eyed shock.

Monokuma laughed. “Oh I assure you that I am being completely truthful with you. You’re completely isolated in here. You’ll never have to walk in that filthy outside world ever again! Those steel plates that cover every entrance to the building completely block out all sound. You can scream and cry all day but no one will ever come!”

“This stupid joke is going way too far.” Leon said. He was trying to sound calm, but his face made it clear that he was anything but.

If anything, Mondo was angrier than before. “For real! Cut this shit out!”

Monokuma sighed. “None of you believe me. It’s such a shame, youth today are so untrusting. Well, you’ll have plenty of time to come to grips with this during your stay.”

Aoi, the gymnast, looked around desperately. “This can’t be true! We can’t be locked in here!”

“What’s wrong with everyone? You all signed up for this, but you’re trying to tap out before the entrance ceremony is even over? Well, if it makes you feel better…There is one way to leave the school…”

“R-really?” Toko said.

“As headmaster…I’ve crafted a special clause for those who’d like to leave! It’s called…The Graduation Clause! But let me explain a fun little rule. As I said, you’re expected to live here with each other forever in harmony. If someone disrupts this harmony, they must leave forever. That my students is what is known as the Graduation Clause.”

Byakuya, the pretentious looking boy in a suit, glared at the bear. “What do you mean disrupt the harmony?”

Monokuma chuckled, covering his wide mouth with his paws. “Well…If one person were to…murder another…”

Mukuro’s eyes widened as the bear spoke. Murder? She knew something was wrong with this situation.

“Yes indeed! Shooting, stabbing, whacking, snapping, crushing, drowning, burning, choking, how you do it doesn’t matter! It boils down to this: you must kill someone if you want to leave.”

The nausea Mukuro had been feeling vanished as her blood was replaced with ice water. You have to kill someone if you want to leave. Her head pulsed as her vision once again split. “To get out, they’ll have to kill each other!” a pink-haired girl said, smiling at Mukuro. “Doesn’t it just fill you with such delicious despair just to think about it?”

The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Unlike when she’d seen Makoto, however, Mukuro was left with a cold ball of dread in her belly.

“You kids are the hope of the world! Taking that hope and seeing it get destroyed by murder creates such a beautiful despair. And that is just so darn exciting!”

“But killing each other is…” Chihiro trailed off, biting her lip.

Monokuma waved his paw at her. “Killing is killing. Haven’t you ever read National Geographic? Animals do it all the time! What’s so wrong with killing for your lives?”

Aoi glared at him. “Why? Why do we have to do this?”

“Yeah, quit the blabbering and let us go home!” Hifumi demanded.

Monokuma’s entire demeanor suddenly shifted. Mukuro thought he was dangerous before, but that was just a gut instinct. Now, she could feel it. They were in the presence of a monster. “Blabbering?” the bear demanded, its voice cold. “You keep saying the same things. You just don’t get it. This is your world. This school is your life now. You can kill all you want. Go ahead, go on killing spree!”

“This is really getting old. How long are you gonna keep this up?” Yasuhiro asked, scratching his nose.

“Eh?”

“Yeah, you scared the hell out of us. Enough with this trick, though. You got us, so let’s move-“

Mondo shoved Hiro out of the way, advancing on Monokuma. “Shut the fuck up and move.” He stopped in front of Monokuma. He towered over the bear, but Monokuma didn’t seem to care. “Listen here, asshole. Enough is enough! What kind of sick joke is this?”

“Joke?” Monokuma asked, tilting his head. “Like your hair?”

“You son of a bitch!” Mondo roared, grabbing Monokuma and hoisting him into the air. “I’m gonna tear you apart you fucker!”

Monokuma waved his arms erratically. “Hey now, violence against the Headmaster is against school regulations.”

“If you don’t let me out of here-“

Monokuma began emitting a loud, rhythmic beeping, but said nothing else.

“What, no smartass comeback? Stop beeping and say something goddammit!” Mondo shook the bear back and forth violently.

For the first time since the meeting started, Kyoko spoke up. “Hey! Get rid of it now!”

“Wha-“

“Throw it away!”

Mondo turned on his heel and threw Monokuma into the air. In the next instant, heat washed over Mukuro’s face as the sound of an explosion filled the gym.

Mondo stood dumbfounded, staring at the explosion in shock. “That wasn’t a joke. He tried to kill me!”

The smell of gunpowder burned in Mukuro’s nostrils. Her ears were ringing too, but she barely noticed. She couldn’t explain it, but for some reason Mukuro felt good. Almost high. She had been only a few feet from an explosion and she’d enjoyed it. What the hell?

“The teddy bear’s been destroyed?” Chihiro asked, wringing her hands nervously.

“I’ve told you I’m not a teddy bear!” Everyone turned in shock to see Monokuma standing on the stage.

Leon’s eyes looked like dinner plates. “T-there were two?”

“You son of a bitch, you tried to kill me!” Mondo started to advance again, but stopped short as he thought better of it.

Shiny claws popped out of Monokuma’s paw as he held it aloft. “Of course I tried to kill you. You broke a school regulation. This is your one and only warning. Anyone else who breaks a rule won’t get off the hook with just a swat on the butt! And don’t even think of destroying me, there are dozens of me all across the school! Not to mention the cameras. I can see every inch of this school. If I see you break a rule…” Monokuma mimed drawing a knife across his throat.

“This is insane,” Aoi whispered, covering her mouth.

“Now, to commemorate the ceremony, I have a little something for you all!” Monokuma produced a stack of PDAs. “This is your student handbook! Or eHandbook, if you will. Pretty cool, huh? It displays your name, so make sure you don’t lose it. But you don’t have to worry about breaking it. This isn’t some bendy Apple product! First off, it’s waterproof! Drop it in a pool? No problem! It can also withstand an impact of up to ten tons! And it contains a list of all regulations, be sure to read it thoroughly! That brings our ceremony to a close! Please enjoy your abundantly dreary school life! See ya!”

Then he vanished. Leaving them alone.

“This is fucking crazy!” Leon said, pacing back-and-forth.

“W-what are we gonna do?” Chihiro asked.

“Everyone calm down,” Kyoko said, trying to maintain the peace. Mukuro had to hand it to her, she was the only one who had managed to maintain her cool. “From what Monokuma said, we’ve got two choices. We can either live here in this school, forever; or-“

“-One of us kills another and escapes,” Celeste said.

Chihiro looked like she was about to burst into tears. “No, having to kill each other is just too cruel.”

“Impossible. This cannot be true,” Kiyotaka said, his entire body trembling.

Byakuya adjusted his glasses and sighed. “Whether or not it’s true is irrelevant. What we need to ask ourselves is if anyone here is seriously considering it.”

Byakuya’s statement left the entire room silent. Mukuro quickly realized why: without exception, everyone in the room was looking around in suspicion. They must have all been wondering the same thing, “Would anyone in this room try to kill me?” That stupid bear had managed to turn an entire room of people against each other with only a few words.

The silence was finally broken by Kyoko. “Are we just going to keep standing around staring at each other?”

“You are right!” Kiyotaka declared, snapping to attention. “Even if we are afraid, we must soldier on! I cannot believe I allowed myself to forget this simple truth. Please, someone strike me! I must be punished!”

Mondo rolled his eyes. “If you’ve got time to bitch and moan you’ve got time to figure out a way out of this fucked up place. I’m getting out of here! A man always keeps his word!”

“Um…” Chihiro timidly raised her hand. “Maybe…Maybe we should look over the regulations before we start looking around?”

“Fuck that!” Mondo yelled, making Chihiro flinch violently. “Who cares about that bastard’s rules?”

Celeste laughed, “Oh yes, let’s just run off and do whatever we want. At least, you should. I wouldn’t mind seeing what happens when someone breaks the rules.”

Mukuro, ignoring the impending argument, walked over to the stage and picked her eHandbook out of the pile. She looked it over for a few seconds until she managed to find a switch on the side. The PDA booted up without a sound, displaying her name in large letters across its surface. This was followed by a list of seven regulations. It restated the “Graduation Clause” as Monokuma mentioned. It also went on to say that students weren’t allowed to leave the campus, which Mukuro thought the steel plates already drove home pretty well.

 

Nighttime was considered to be the hours from 22:00 to 7:00, and they weren’t allowed to trespass in areas that had been marked as restricted, but otherwise it was okay to go anywhere else. Sleeping was only allowed in the dorms. Destroying Monokumas or security cameras was also against the rules.

Mukuro stood there for a few moments, mulling over what the rules listed and, more importantly, what they failed to list. The rules were far from ironclad, which was probably the reason the mastermind had added rule number seven, which stated that they could add more rules whenever they wanted. 

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Mukuro was drawn out of her thought by Mondo’s harsh voice.

“I-I didn’t mean…”

That was Makoto! Mukuro’s head whipped around in time to see the biker gang leader stalking towards Makoto. Without a second thought, she dropped her eHandbook and ran full-tilt at the hulking teen. She had already closed half the distance before the PDA struck the ground with a clatter.

Mondo threw a punch at Makoto’s face, but Mukuro was faster. Her fingers clamped around his wrist like a vice, stopping his fist a hair’s breadth from Makoto’s nose.

“Hey, what the fuck!? You want some too, bitch!?” Mondo drew back his free hand, but never had a chance to send it forward. Mukuro’s fist whipped forward and caught him on the jaw, causing him to stumble back a few steps before crumpling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

Mukuro winced, pulling her arm back against her chest and rubbing her wrist. It had been a badly thrown punch, and she’d jammed her wrist badly. It felt like she’d broken something. Pushing the pain to the back of her mind, she looked at Makoto. “Are you okay?”

Makoto stared at her dumbly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Mukuro.”

The room was in a stunned silence. Kyoko calmly walked over to Mondo’s prone form and rolled him onto his back. She checked for a pulse then prodded his jaw a few times before standing up. “He’s alive. Nothing’s broken, but he’s not gonna be happy when he wakes up.” She looked around. “Who wants to carry him?” 

OoOoOoOo

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my story! With college, I can’t guarantee an update schedule, but I will endeavor to update as soon as possible!


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. I’m glad to hear everyone’s feedback! Thank you so much! One of the biggest criticisms I noticed was in regards to Mondo’s attempt to strike Mukuro. I stand by the reasoning that Mondo loses sense of morality when angry; that being said, the matter is addressed more fully in this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: (Did I put one of these in Chapter 1?) I do not own anything. Literally. I’m a college student. I owe more money than I possess.**

OoOoOoOo

After the incident in the gym, Sakura volunteered to carry Mondo’s unconscious body to his room. Yasuhiro and Leon accompanied her, as the group felt that leaving a defenseless person alone with anyone else was too dangerous.

 

The tension in the gym was palpable. No one was openly gawking at her, but Mukuro would occasionally glance up to see one of her fellow students staring. She couldn’t blame them; if it were possible she’d be staring at herself. Where had that come from? She’d never fought a day in her life, yet that situation had felt so…natural. There hadn’t been any time to think. She had seen what needed to be done, and she’d done it.  It felt like instinct.

 

“You’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question.

 

Mukuro looked at Makoto, wincing as she rubbed her wrist. “Yeah, my fist didn’t land right. Nothing’s broken though, should just need a little ice.” She tried to smile, but the result was more of a grimace.

 

Makoto gave her an appraising look. “We should see if there’s a nurse’s office around here. I can’t say I know much about medical stuff, but I can wrap a compression bandage.”

 

“No, really, it’s fine,” Mukuro insisted taking a step back. She was acutely aware of the eyes that were focused on them. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to be left alone; to shut herself away from all the prying eyes. At the same time, she was deathly afraid of leaving Makoto alone. After everything that had transpired, how could she trust anyone to not hurt him?

 

“Okay,” Makoto relented, holding up his hands in surrender. “Let me know if I can help, though. It looks like it really hurts.”

 

Mukuro couldn’t help smiling at his concern. It was a warm feeling, knowing that someone else cared about her, but it was also a very alien feeling. It was somehow unnatural that Makoto, or anyone for that matter, could care for her at all. “Thank you,” she mumbled, unable to suppress the blush that rose to her cheeks.

 

“Care to explain what that was?” Byakuya asked, approaching the pair. “Where did a high school girl learn to fight like that?”

 

Mukuro shifted her attention to the prodigy and blinked, momentarily confused by the question. “I…I’m not…”

 

“Well?” Byakuya pressed, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. “Speak up, girl, I can’t hear you.”

 

She found herself unable to speak. Every time she opened her mouth, only a few garbled syllables would make their way out before it would snap shut again. She had no answers to give. No matter how hard she thought about it, the origin of her skill would not come to her mind.

 

“Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?” Makoto interjected, stepping between the two. “She already told you that she can’t remember.”

 

“Makoto is correct.” This time it was Kyoko who spoke up. “Grilling Mukuro about something she does not remember will not cause her memories to magically reappear.”

 

Byakuya scoffed, turning away from the group. “I’m leaving,” he announced, trudging towards the gym’s exit.

 

“Ah, wait!” Hifumi called after him. “It’s dangerous to go alone!” If the Ultimate Affluent Prodigy noticed Hifumi’s words, he gave no indication of it. He stormed out, the door slamming closed behind him.

 

An uncomfortable silence filled the gym following Byakuya’s exit. After a few moments, Sayaka spoke. “How about we all go to the cafeteria? Everyone’s probably hungry.”

 

OoOoOo

 

Mukuro sighed as she pressed the bag of ice against her already swelling wrist. She was pretty sure nothing was broken, but she was beginning to think that it could very well be sprained. It was still extremely sore, but the icepack was doing a good job of numbing the pain.

 

She walked over to Makoto and Sayaka, the latter of whom was gnawing on an apple. She sat down next to the brown-haired boy, ignoring the flutter in her chest when he turned to her and smiled. “Is it helping?” he asked.

 

Mukuro returned the smile. “Yeah, I think the swelling’s already going down.” It was a lie. Her wrist would probably be twice this size in a few hours, but she saw no reason to worry him.

 

“I wanted to thank you, for earlier,” Makoto said, sheepishly. “I don’t know what I said that made him so angry, but Mondo would’ve creamed me if you hadn’t stepped in.”

 

Mukuro’s face once again grew hot. She wasn’t used to someone showing her gratitude. “N-no p-problem,” she stammered. Why did she keep doing that? Once again she was forced to ask herself why Makoto was affecting her so strongly. Visions aside, she had no memories of him. Had there been something between them, lost somewhere in her missing memories? If so, why didn’t Makoto remember? He didn’t appear to be suffering from any kind of amnesia.

 

“You were way cool!” Sayaka gushed, leaning around Makoto to look at her. “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast! And you’re, like, half Mondo’s size! But you took him down with one punch! You’re like that One Kick Guy, but with fists!” She smiled at Mukuro, but the gesture didn’t give off the same warmth as Makoto’s.

 

“Thank you.” Mukuro replied, looking away from the other girl. She felt uncomfortable being around Sayaka. There was something about the idol’s personality that rubbed her the wrong way.

 

Sayaka tilted her head, one finger rising to touch her bottom lip. “Aren’t you hungry at all? You were really sick before, and after all of that action in the gym you must starving! Do you want me to go get you something?”

 

Mukuro did her best to smile, but the results were less than natural. “No, thank you. I’m still a little queasy.” Her lavender eyes flittered around the almost empty room. The others had split up to learn the layout of the school; their small band had been the only one to follow Sayaka’s initial suggestion to head to the cafeteria. “Do you think the others will be back soon?”

 

Sayaka laughed, “It’s just a school, there can only be so much for them to find.” She was quiet for a moment, before abruptly rising to her feet. “Mukuro, would you mind walking with me to the bathroom? I don’t want to go alone.”

 

Mukuro immediately shook her head. “No.”

 

“It’s dangerous, though! We shouldn’t be splitting up; we need a buddy system.”

 

The inklings of another headache were beginning to manifest somewhere behind Mukuro’s left eyebrow. She turned her gaze on Sayaka, and did her best to keep the ice out of her words. She failed. “Sayaka, I have no more reason to trust you than I do anyone else at this school. What’s more, you have no cause to trust me, either. For a murder to take place, there needs to be at least two participants. It seems the most sure-fire way to get killed is to be alone with someone else. For all I know, you’re just waiting to plant a knife in my back.”

 

It was only for a moment, but Sayaka’s eyes narrowed into a glare as she listened to Mukuro’s words. It wasn’t the kind of glare you’d expect to see on the face of a high school girl. Sayaka didn’t look angry; at least, anger wasn’t the emotion that best described the expression. For the briefest of instances, Mukuro could see hate in Sayaka’s eyes.

 

Then it was gone. Sayaka’s eyes filled with tears and she buried her face into her hands. “I-I’m sorry!” Her shoulders shook with sobs as she tried to speak. “I-I’m j-just really s-s-scared is all.”

 

A panicked expression appeared on Makoto’s face as the pop idol burst into tears. “Hey, hey, calm down!” He awkwardly extended his hand and rubbed Sayaka’s back. “It’s okay, I can walk with you to the ladies’ room. I’ll even stand guard outside, so please don’t cry…” Sayaka redoubled her crying, turning to Makoto and burying her face into his chest.

 

Mukuro glared at the display, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is this really necessary? If she’s so worried about it, why doesn’t she just use the one in her room?”

 

Makoto looked at her. “Hey, can you ease off a bit? Everyone’s having a rough day, we don’t need to be picking fights with each other for no reason,” he said, clearly exasperated.

 

Mukuro was shocked to find his annoyance directed at her. “I’m so-” she started to say, but the words trailed off into a slur as the edges of her vision grew black. Fear gripped her and she quickly realized that she couldn’t speak, or even breath for that matter. Makoto didn’t appear to have noticed her sudden silence, as he was too focused on comforting Sayaka to notice his surroundings.

 

_I’m the only one who cares about you, sister. You’re an ugly, stupid attack dog whose only purpose is to kill people, but I love you anyway. Even if you are a worthless bitch. Don’t you love me too, big sis?_

Her lungs were on fire, and no matter how hard Mukuro tried, she couldn’t re-inflate them. She watched Makoto consoling the dark-haired girl, her eyes wild, pleading for him to look up and see her. Mukuro’s vision narrowed to a pinhead a hand rising to clutch uselessly at her throat.

 

_Yes, of course I do! But do we really need to do this to everyone? Makoto is different, maybe…_

Consciousness had almost completely fled her when Makoto turned to her. His eyes widened, releasing Sayaka and grabbing Mukuro’s shoulders. “Mukuro! What’s wrong?”

 

_Upupupu. You really do love him, don’t you? You’re such a worthless piece of trash, falling for the first boy who didn’t immediately turn away from you in disgust. You really are just a bitch in heat._

 

“Is she choking?”

 

Mukuro heard Sayaka, but she couldn’t look away from Makoto. He was worried. He was concerned about her! What had she done to warrant such a response from him? She was no one. Just a worthless, disgusting girl. Why would he care about an ugly piece of trash like her? She was trash…Just trash.

 

 _I don’t love him! It’s just… Do we really have to make an example out of_ him _? His talent is luck. He’s only here based on chance! He’s not an Ultimate, not really. How would his death deal a blow to hope?_

 

“Mukuro! Can you hear me?” Makoto gently shook her shoulders. His eyes darted around the room in a panic. They locked on something behind Mukuro. “Sakura! We need help!”

 

_What a shame. My own sister cares about some stranger more than she does about me. Oh well. Perhaps a change of plans is in order? I love you, sister, but you don’t deserve to feel such glorious despair, at least not yet. Upupupu. You could become a complication! How terrible it would be to have my own sister fight against me! Such despair! Now, be a good girl and go to sleep._

Something struck Mukuro hard between her shoulder blades. She cried out in pain and surprise, but the blow did its job. Whatever constricted her airway had released its hold on her. She took a deep breath and the darkness that had crept into her vision dissipated. Her eyes refocused on Makoto’s relieved face. “Makoto?”

 

“Thank God. Are you okay?” Makoto looked pale. A fine sheen of sweat stood out on his forehead.

 

Mukuro massaged her throat, which still felt a little tight. “I am now. What hit me?” She twisted in her seat to look behind her.

 

Sakura was crouching behind Mukuro’s seat, watching her carefully. Despite her rather intimidating size, she had a way of appearing nonthreatening. “Do these sorts of attacks happen often?”

 

Mukuro shook her head. “Not that I can remember. That’s not saying much, though. It seems there’s a lot I don’t remember.” The specifics of the conversation she had heard were already fading. Two things remained burned into her brain. The person speaking was someone she loved dearly, and someone she greatly feared.

 

“Maybe she has asthma?” Sayaka suggested. She’d risen to her feet and was now hovering over Mukuro’s shoulder.

 

Mukuro suddenly felt very claustrophobic. She jumped up from her seat and backpedaled until she wasn’t surrounded by the other teens. “I’m fine, now,” she said, obviously trying to sound reassuring.

 

Sakura didn’t look convinced. “You had turned blue. We cannot simply ignore this.”

 

“Sakura’s right,” Makoto said. “We need to figure out what caused you to have that attack.”

 

Mukuro’s fingers curled into a fist. “Yeah, let’s just catch the train and ride downtown to the doctor’s office. I’m sure they accept walk ins.”

 

Makoto looked taken aback. “I’m sorry. We’re just worried about you.” He stood up and took a step in her direction. “What would happen if this happened while you were by yourself?”

 

Mukuro glared at him, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know!” Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know anything but my name.” _And you._

 

Sakura broke the tension by speaking up. “I believe it would be best if you had someone near you at all times. Judging by your rapport with Makoto, it doesn’t seem like daytime will be an issue. That being said, it would be problematic if you had an attack while you were in your room.”

 

Sayaka’s eyes opened wide. “Do you mean they should sleep in the same room?”

 

Mukuro and Makoto both turned a brilliant shade of red. “I- I don’t th-think that’s a g-good idea,” Makoto spluttered, waving his hands erratically.

 

“Y-yeah, Makoto’s right! I m-mean I d-don’t mind but i-it wouldn’t look very g-good.” Mukuro crossed her arms over her chest and looked everywhere but at Makoto.

 

Sakura nodded solemnly; if she thought the display was humorous, she gave no indication. “That’s a fair point. It would be better if you had a female roommate. As long as it’s public knowledge that you’re sharing a room with someone, the likelihood that they would attack you would be slim. Still, it would be best if you had someone you trust.”

 

Mukuro’s face had finally returned to its normal shade. “I can’t say that I trust anyone here,” she said, looking at Sakura. “We’ve been here for less than a day, there hasn’t exactly been time to get to know everyone.”

 

“Perhaps I would be an appropriate roommate?” When Kyoko spoke, Makoto and Sayaka both jumped nearly a foot into the air. Mukuro herself had only noticed her an instant before she’d spoken.

 

Sakura’s title as Ultimate Fighter was apparently well earned, as she didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by Kyoko’s sudden arrival. “It makes sense. Both of you have amnesia, who’s to say that Kyoko isn’t suffering from the same condition as you?”

 

“Exactly,” Kyoko said, nodding. “The odds of us both having an attack at the same time are rather slim. That way, we can look out for each other.”

 

Mukuro sighed. Kyoko and Sakura were making good points, but she wasn’t happy with the idea of having a babysitter. “And why do you trust me not to put a dagger in your back while you sleep?”

 

“Do you have a dagger?” Kyoko deadpanned, before her lips curled into a small smile. “Besides the fact that you would be the obvious suspect should I wind up dead in a locked room that only we had access to?” She gestured at Makoto. “You clearly care for Makoto’s well-being. If you escaped, there would be no one left to look out for him.”

 

Mukuro couldn’t think of a valid argument. Clearly outvoted, she had no choice but to relent.

 

OoOoOo

 

They had waited around the cafeteria for the rest of the group -sans Mondo- to trickle in. After everyone reported what they’d found, Sakura broached the topic of Mukuro’s episode. The precaution was discussed amongst those who cared to voice their opinion on the matter, and it was quickly decided that Kyoko and Mukuro sharing a room was the best solution.

 

Afterwards, Sakura had helped transfer the bed from Mukuro’s assigned room to Kyoko’s. By the time they were finished with the move, it was almost 22:00, so it was agreed that everyone would return to their rooms for the night.

 

Mukuro made a point of seeing Makoto to his room, but even now, two hours later, she was worried about him. The way she’d been hovering over him was ridiculous, she knew that; hell, it was downright creepy. She couldn’t help herself, though. She didn’t know what she’d do if he wound up dead.

 

Mukuro lay on top of her bed, cradling her injured wrist against her belly. The bag of ice was now little more than lukewarm water, and the pain was gradually seeping back into the joint. She stared at the ceiling, doing her best to ignore it.

 

Her mind was racing. What did the attacks mean? She knew she’d seen something during her earlier episode, but whatever it had been was eluding her. All she could remember was a voice, along with a strange mixture of fear and love. Then there was Makoto. Why did she feel so strongly about him? Why didn’t he remember her?

 

A knot of frustration formed in her chest; she curled her hands into fists and fresh pain lanced up her arm. She yelped, grabbing her wrist and curling into a ball as she fought the tears that welled up in her eyes.

 

Once the pain had subsided, she looked across the dimly lit room at Kyoko. She was still asleep. Mukuro’s outburst had luckily not woken her. It was for the best; the silver-haired girl would probably argue with Mukuro if she knew that she was planning to make a run to the dining hall.

 

Mukuro sat up in bed, gently lowering her feet to the floor. She rose slowly, doing her best to make as little noise as possible. She crept silently across the room to grab the key from its place on the table. She found her shoes by the door and quickly slid them on before opening the door and slipping out into the hall. After softly closing the door, Mukuro turned and made her way towards the dining hall.

 

She needed to get more ice for her wrist. The pain was getting worse as the ligaments warmed back to their normal temperatures. It wasn’t until she tugged on the door and it didn’t move that she remembered that the dining hall was locked at nighttime.

 

Mukuro cried out in frustration and kicked the door. All this managed to do was make her foot hurt as well. “Goddamn it!” She hopped up and down, cursing the door with every word that came to mind. She stopped after a few seconds of this and growled, glaring at the offending slab of metal and wood. Spinning on her heel, she started to make her way back to her room…

 

And ran face-first into Mondo.

 

She acted on instinct, jumping away from him and dropping into a fighting stance. She raised her good hand, tucking the other defensively behind the small of her back. “What do you want?” She glared at him, eyes boring into his.

 

Mondo held up both hands in surrender. “Hey, easy there. I’m not here to fight you.”

 

Mukuro didn’t relax. “Is that so? What do you want, then?”

 

The hulking teen sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “After I woke up I tried to slip into the dining hall to grab some grub, but I guess it’s closed at night.” He pointed at the door and shrugged. “I was on my way back to my room when I heard you coming. Didn’t know who it was, so I stepped into the hallway over there.” He gestured towards the pantry.

 

“Okay. That explains why you were out at night. But you still haven’t told me what you want with me.” Mukuro had no doubts that she could take Mondo down if he jumped her, but with only one arm, it wouldn’t be a walk in the park.

 

Mondo growled in annoyance. “I was getting to that, dammit!” He sighed again. “I wanted to apologize to ya. I was being a real jackass earlier today. The shrimp wasn’t trying to be pompous, it’s just the way he talks. I shouldn’t have lost my head, ya know?”

 

“That’s _shrimp_ ’s name is Makoto, and he’s not pompous, you’re just a jerk. Is there anything else you wanted, muscle-head?” Mukuro was still angry with him. Angry about his attack on Makoto. Angry with the throbbing pain in her wrist. Angry with his stupid, repetitive tough-guy routine.

 

Mondo gritted his teeth, his face turning red. It was clear he was doing his best to suppress the rage that was bubbling up inside him. “Yeah,” he ground out, “There is.” He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. His color returned to normal and the vein that had begun to pulsate above his right eyebrow disappeared. “I lost control of myself, which is something a man should never do. I even raised my hand against a woman, something else that just shouldn’t happen.” He dropped to his knees and bowed his head. “I beg your forgiveness.”

 

Mukuro finally relaxed and stood back up to her full height. She looked down at Mondo, thoroughly confused and with absolutely no idea what to do next. Finally, she said, “Forgiveness for what? Losing your fucking temper?”

 

Mondo’s head jerked up and he looked at her in surprise. “Wha-”

 

“You’re almost a grown man and you’re still throwing temper tantrums? You’re twice Makoto’s size. You could have killed him!” She marched up to his kneeling form and glared down at him. “What happens when someone gives you some grief about your stupid hair-do? What are you gonna do, bash their fucking skull in?” She jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him recoil. “You are incapable of controlling yourself! You’re unstable. You’re dangerous!” _You’re a complication._

 

The brown-haired boy was quiet for a long time after Mukuro finished. When he spoke, he said only five words. “I give you my word.”

 

Mukuro stood over him, fuming. “What was that?”

 

“I give you my word!” he repeated, louder this time. “I’ll control myself!”

 

“Why would I trust you?”

 

Mondo was silent for another moment. “A man is only as good as his word. I’m a real man, I don’t go back on mine!”  His voice held a determination unlike anything Mukuro had ever heard before.

 

She studied him for a while, mulling his words over in her head. Despite everything that had happened: despite the situation that they were in, she found herself inclined to believe him. She smiled, sticking out her hand. “Then I trust you. We’ve got a deal.”

 

Mondo grinned, accepting her offered hand and shaking it vigorously. “Th-”

 

Mukuro hauled him bodily to his feet and, still gripping his hand in a vice, glared him in the eye. “Make no mistake, if you ever raise your hand against Makoto again I’ll give you a lot worse than a bruised jaw.”

 

Mondo nodded, his grin never wavering. “Understood, ma’am.”

 

Seeing his nonplussed reaction, Mukuro couldn’t help but grin herself. Despite his temperament, Mondo really wasn’t such a bad guy. “Alright then, this conversation never happened. Night, big guy.”

 

OoOoOo

 

The first thing Mukuro noticed when she returned to her room was that the lights were on. The second thing she noticed was Kyoko, propped up in bed and looking at her expectantly. “So?”

 

“So what?” Mukuro replied, kicking off her shoes. She flipped the light switch, as there was enough ambient light to see without it, and made her way back over to her own bed. She pulled back the covers and slipped into bed, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

 

“Why did you leave the room after hours? We all agreed that no one was to leave their rooms after 22:00.” Kyoko didn’t sound particularly annoyed; in fact, she sounded genuinely curious about Mukuro’s reasons for leaving.

 

Mukuro rolled over in bed so she could look at her lavender-haired roommate. “I went to get some more ice for my wrist. Didn’t see much need in waking you up for an errand run. Turns out I wasted my time. It was closed.”

 

Kyoko sighed. “The entire point of us sleeping in the same room is to watch each other for signs of an episode. What if you’d had an attack while in the hallway?”

 

Mukuro did her best to shrug while lying down. “Probably the same thing I’d have done if I’d had one in here. I’d have suffocated.” She started massaging her wrist. “You were asleep, and I wouldn’t exactly have been able to call for help if I suddenly couldn’t breathe.”

 

Kyoko nodded solemnly. “I suppose you do have a fair point.” She lifted her gloved-hands, palms up. Mukuro briefly wondered why Kyoko would bother sleeping with gloves on; after all, there’s no way it’d be comfortable. “You can roam however you like; I won’t stop you. Just know that I will not provide an alibi for you should something happen during those hours.”

 

There was a brief silence before Mukuro spoke again. “I ran into Mondo outside.”

 

Kyoko had settled back into to bed, but she wasn’t yet asleep. “Is that so? What happened?”

 

Mukuro laughed. “It’s the weirdest thing. He apologized.”

 

“I’m glad that is settled. I wouldn’t want him bearing a grudge against you or Makoto.”

 

The room once again fell into relative silence. After a while, Mukuro could hear the shift in Kyoko’s breathing that meant she’d fallen asleep. A few moments later, Mukuro followed her.

 

OoOoOo

 

**I hope you all found this to be enjoyable. Please let me know what you thought**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. I got a lot of good feedback from everyone, thanks for your insight! I hope you continue to enjoy as the story progresses.**

**Disclaimer: Ich besitze nicht Danganronpa.**

OoOoOoOo

 

Mukuro woke up with a headache that made the one she’d had before feel like brain-freeze. To make matters worse, her injured hand had swollen up to twice its normal size. She did her best to sit up, the effort leaving her out of breath and doubled over in pain.

 

“Are you okay?” Kyoko asked from the other side of the room.

 

“No,” Mukuro croaked, giving up on the idea of opening her eyes after the light stabbed into her head when she opened them. This was getting old quick.

 

Kyoko walked over and pressed her forearm against Mukuro’s forehead. “You’re burning up. Lie down.” She grasped Mukuro’s shoulders and gently forced her back into bed. “I’ll get you some ice for your wrist and see if I can find some pain-killers.”

 

“I’ve got to check on Makoto,” she protested, attempting to sit back up.

 

Kyoko silently caught her shoulders and pushed her back down. “I’ll talk to him. You need to rest.” Mukuro heard her walk away, followed by the sound of the bathroom tap being turned on. A moment later, a cool rag was draped over her forehead. “Please do not get up. I’ll be back momentarily.”

 

The door clicked shut, followed by the sound of the bolt sliding home. She wanted to disregard the other girl’s advice, but the cacophony in her head had subsided to a dull throbbing, and Mukuro was afraid that any movement would wake it. So she lay there, perfectly still, and tried to think of anything else but her current situation. Naturally, her mind wandered to Makoto.

 

She didn’t want to risk digging into her memories and making the pain worse, so she just focused on what she knew. She thought about his voice: the friendly, gentle tone that he usually spoke in, as well as his quiet confidence when he’d defended her from Byakuya. She thought about how his arms felt around her when he’d caught her in the gym. She thought about how he smelled; a mixture of soap and something achingly familiar that she couldn’t place.

 

Mukuro didn’t know how long she’d been lying there, her mind wandering. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Kyoko spoke. “Your fever must be getting worse. Your face is very red.”

 

“I must have drifted off,” she mumbled, hoping Kyoko didn’t press the issue. “What time is it?”

 

“Ten o’clock,” Kyoko replied, pressing something against Mukuro’s lips. “Aspirin,” she explained when Mukuro didn’t immediately open her mouth. Mukuro accepted the tablets and Kyoko put a glass to her lips, “It’s water. Drink.”

 

Mukuro swallowed the pills and continued guzzling the water until Kyoko pulled the glass away. “Hey, give me some more!” she protested.

 

“Give it a few seconds. I don’t want to clean up your vomit.” She took the cloth from Mukuro’s forehead and went to the bathroom to rewet it. When she returned, she let Mukuro take several more gulps of water before once again pulling the glass away. “Here’s your ice,” she warned, gently placing a bag over Mukuro’s right wrist.

 

Mukuro almost moaned as the cold seeped into her joint. “Thank you.”

 

“Your condition is curious,” Kyoko said. Mukuro could practically hear her touching her chin as she spoke. “Why are you having these attacks, I wonder? I haven’t felt anything since we woke up yesterday. Was our amnesia caused by the same thing?”

 

“No offense, Kyoko, but right now I really don’t give a shit.”

 

Kyoko laughed softly. “I suppose not. Are you hungry?”

 

Mukuro’s face twisted into a grimace. “No.”

 

Kyoko hummed. “I haven’t seen you eat anything since we got here. I left an orange and a sleeve of crackers on the table. Please eat them if you change your mind.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“There are still a few things I need to look into. I’ll lock the door behind me, so please get some sleep.” Mukuro heard the door open.

 

“Please watch out for him.”

 

“I will.”

 

OoOoOo

 

The next three days were a blur. The headache would alternate between just really bad and terrible. Apart from the occasional trip to the bathroom, she stayed in bed the whole time; apart from a few crackers, she didn’t eat. She drank water like it was going out of style.

 

Makoto came to visit her several times. Unfortunately, he was always accompanied by the air-headed popstar. Mukuro was just glad to see him. He was alive. He was safe.

 

Aside from him: Sakura, Mondo, and Chihiro were the only ones who bothered to come by and check on her. Mukuro didn’t mind. She hardly knew any of them, after all.

 

On the morning of the fourth day, Mukuro woke up feeling great. Her wrist was still a little sore, but its movement was no longer restricted. She gingerly climbed out of bed, but her caution was unnecessary. She couldn’t remember a time she’d felt so good! She slipped into the bathroom and took a long shower, letting the scalding hot water loosen her idle muscles.

 

When she stepped out of the shower, the room was filled with steam and her skin was so pink it was practically glowing. She dropped her clothes into the hamper before making her way back into the bedroom, her towel wrapped around her torso.

 

Kyoko was still asleep, so Mukuro took pains to remain silent as she put on fresh clothes. A bemused smile appeared on her face as she realized that she had ten sets of the same outfit. No wonder everyone who came to see her had been wearing the same thing as they had been on the first day. She dressed quickly before making her way to the dining hall. She was ravenous.

 

She was the first one there, so she helped herself to the kitchen. After digging around for a while she discovered that Monokuma hadn’t been kidding; the kitchen was loaded. How many people were staying in the school? Fifteen, she thought. Would it really be so much trouble to cook the food in bulk? After all, it wouldn’t be coming out of her pocket if she screwed up and burned everything.

 

She had no idea where to begin. Did she even know how to cook? Maybe cooking was like fighting? Should she just start cooking and see what happened? After a very brief deliberation, Mukuro decided to do just that.

 

Mukuro allowed her hands to move of their own volition, and after several minutes of mixing ingredients into a bowl, a word floated to the top of her mind. _Okayu_.

 

_Aw… I hate rice porridge, big sis! It’s so bland!_

 

A wave of nausea washed over her, but it swiftly passed. “Rice porridge, huh?” she murmured, quickly forgetting the particulars of the memory-flash. She finished mixing the okayu and transferred it to the stove before allowing her hands to move on to something else.

 

There was salmon in the fridge. She was laying the fillets out on a baking-sheet when the kitchens door slowly swung inward.

 

“Um, good morning,” Chihiro said softly, stepping across the threshold. “I-I’m glad to see that y-you’re feeling better.”

 

Mukuro nodded at the other girl and went back to spacing the fish across the sheet. “You came to see me a few times, right? Thanks.”

 

Chihiro blushed, pushing her pointer fingers together. “We were all worried a-about you. M-Mondo stood outside your r-room most days.”

 

Mukuro looked up, surprise evident on her face. She hadn’t expected that. “Well, I’m all better now!” She grinned, beating her breast with her fist.

 

Chihiro smiled. “I’m glad!” She paused, sniffing the air. “Are you making okayu?”

 

Mukuro nodded, digging around in the cabinet for spices. “Yeah, if I timed it right it should be done at around the same time as the yakizakana. Hopefully there’ll be enough for everyone.”

 

“I didn’t know you could cook!”

 

“We haven’t even been here for a week, so I’m not surprised.” She laughed. “In all fairness, I didn’t even know I could until this morning.”

 

Chihiro was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I forgot about your memory loss.”

 

Mukuro waved her hand dismissively. “It’ll sort itself out. I’m just taking it one day at a time. No point in fighting something you have no control over.” She wished she actually meant her bravado.

 

Chihiro smiled. “You’re right. That’s a good attitude.” She looked around the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Her smile turned sheepish and she hunched her shoulders. “I’m not really a cook, but my dad used to say my tamagoyaki was good.”

 

_Tamagoyaki! Tamagoyaki! You’re the best, big sis!_

Mukuro blinked away the tears that had suddenly filled her eyes. “Yeah, that would be great.”

 

OoOoOo

 

“Everything smells wonderful!” Kiyotaka loudly announced as he walked into the cafeteria. As usual, his uniform was so sharp it looked like it could cut. Did he have an iron? “Who do I have to think for such meal?”

 

Chihiro pointed at Mukuro, who was putting the steaming pot of rice porridge amongst the other food that covered the table. “I h-helped with the eggs, but Mukuro did most of the work.”

 

Mukuro stood back, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “That’s not true. You were a lot of help. I would have burned the okayu if you hadn’t noticed that it was sticking. Of all the things to forget to remember about cooking, stirring has to be the worst.” Mukuro really liked Chihiro. She was very friendly, despite an apparent social phobia, and Mukuro found her easy to talk to. How could she be suspicious of someone like that?

 

Chihiro was the deciding factor in Mukuro’s internal debate. At first, she had whole-heartedly distrusted everyone but herself and Makoto. Then Sakura had saved her life, and she’d been forced to reevaluate that stance. Kyoko had taken care of her when she was sick. Mondo and Chihiro had both visited her on several occasions.

 

The pool of people who she couldn’t imagine trying to kill her or Makoto had risen to six in only a few days. Maybe she was being naïve, but what if no one wanted to kill anyone? What if they could get out of this without _any_ deaths? She wanted to get to know everyone. With any luck, they could unite against the mastermind. It was worth a try, at least.

 

“Ah! Mukuro!” Kiyotaka shouted, as if noticing her for the first time. “I am glad to see you are feeling better! I guess Kyoko told you about our daily breakfasts?” He settled into his seat, hands folded in his lap.

 

Mukuro pursed her lips, thinking. “She might have mentioned it? I’m not sure. I just came here ‘cause I was hungry.” She laughed, rubbing the back of her head. Her laughter turned into a grin as Makoto walked into the cafeteria. “Good morning, Makoto!”

 

Makoto raised his eyebrow, but  quickly returned her smile. “Mukuro! I’m glad you’re up. How’s your head?” He walked over to her, concern evident on his face.

 

“Much better, see?” she rapped her knuckles lightly against her skull. “Get you some food. Me and Chihiro worked hard on it, so you better eat up.”

 

Makoto looked at the table, his eyes lighting up as he saw the spread. “Wow, you two went all out. I didn’t know you could cook!”

 

Mukuro rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone act so surprised? Is it so rare of a skill to have these days?”

 

“Teenage girls can’t cook; it’s an unfortunate stereotype set by the Shin Megami Tensei series. Specifically, their spin-off series: Persona.” Hifumi said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. “I will be the guinea pig. Please excuse me.” He wandered over to the table and began to load up his plate.

 

“Unacceptable! We cannot begin our meal until everyone has arrived!” Kiyotaka protested, grabbing Hifumi’s wrist as he picked up a piece of baked salmon.

 

“The way some of these guys are, everything will be cold before then!” Hifumi complained, snatching his hand away.

 

Chihiro blushed, hunching her shoulders. “I-it’s fine. H-Hifumi’s r-r-right. P-lease go a-ahead and e-eat.”

 

“Yeah, go ahead,” Mukuro said. “No point in letting everything get cold. Besides, I’m gonna eat. Wanna see if you can stop _me_ , Taka?” she asked.

 

Kiyotaka scratched his face, shifting his gaze down. “Of course not. You are the cook, after all.” He recovered quickly, spreading his arms wide. “Please, everyone! Let’s dig in!”

 

Mukuro smiled at Makoto and they immediately broke out into laughter. It quickly spread to the other students, and soon they were all laughing. Why was this so easy? They’d only just met each other. They were expected to kill one another to get out. Yet they were getting along so well…

 

“W-what’s going on?” Mukuro looked up to see Toko peeking into the room.

 

The purple-haired girl made her uneasy, but Mukuro did her best to look cheerful. “Good morning, Toko. Are you hungry?”

 

Toko nervously walked into the room. She looked like she was tip-toeing through a minefield. “You m-made breakfast?”

 

“Yeah! Me and Chihiro threw it together. Help yourself!” Even to Mukuro, the words sounded a bit plastic. For some reason, the easy comradery she felt with the other students wasn’t present with the Ultimate Writing Prodigy.

 

“I-I’m surprise m-manish woman l-like you can c-cook.” Mukuro bit her tongue to stop herself from replying to the barb. Toko walked over to the table, taking the lid off of the pot of okayu. She made a face, looking over at Mukuro. “W-who could e-eat this s-slop? It l-looks l-like vomit. S-smells like it, t-too.”

 

_I hate, hate, hate, haaaaate okayu! It looks like throw-up!_

“You have to eat it, Junko. It’s all they gave me.”

 

Toko looked shocked. “W-what was t-that?”

 

Mukuro stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the table. She shook her head, covering her eyes with one hand. “I…I don’t know… Who...?”

 

Makoto wrapped his arm around her and guided her down into a chair. “Are you okay?”

 

Mukuro looked at him, and Makoto’s eyes widened in shock as he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Makoto…Who is Junko? Why am I crying?”

 

Before Makoto had a chance to reply, Toko spoke up. “G-geez what’s y-your problem? Are y-you crazy or something?”

 

“That is enough!” Kiyotaka said, rising to his feet. “Miss Fukawa I order you to apologize immediately! Your behavior has been disgraceful!”

 

“N-no!” Toko bristled, glaring at him. “Y-you don’t h-have any power o-over me! In c-case you h-haven’t noticed, w-we’re not actually at s-school. M-moron!”

 

Kiyotaka folded his arms across his chest, looking at Toko sternly. “You owe it to your fellow students to act respectfully! If you cannot do that, then I must ask you to leave the vicinity immediately! You have clearly upset Miss Ikusaba.”

 

Toko glared at him, but wilted when her gaze shifted to the others. Hifumi and – surprisingly - Chihiro were both glaring at her. “F-fine! I d-didn’t want any of this s-slop a-anyway! I’ll m-make my o-own breakfast!” She turned on her heel and stalked into the kitchen.

 

Makoto was too busy consoling Mukuro to notice the altercation. “Mukuro, it’s okay.”

 

Mukuro wiped away her tears, but more quickly took their place. “I don’t remember anything, Makoto! Why?” She hid her face in her hands. “I don’t know who Junko is…but my heart hurts when I think about that name. Is she my friend? My sister? What if I never remember?”

 

“You will remember, Mukuro,” Makoto assured her, rubbing her back softly. He looked to the others for help, but they were all pointedly ignoring Mukuro’s breakdown.

 

“How do you know? What if I start forgetting things? What if I forget you?”

 

“You’re not forgetting anything. You’re remembering. So what if you don’t know who Junko is? You remembered her name, didn’t you? That’s more than you knew yesterday.” He grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him. “You’re going to keep on remembering things. You’ll remember everything soon enough.”

 

“You sound so confident about that…” Mukuro murmured, looking away from him.

 

Makoto smiled. “I’m the Ultimate Luck, right? If I bet on it, it’s gotta come true!”

 

“Makoto…” Mukuro threw her arms around him, burying her face into his chest. “Thank you,” she mumbled. Her heart hammered in her chest. Why did she do that? It’s weird, isn’t it? He must be freaked out. But Mukuro couldn’t help herself.

 

Makoto’s face reddened. “N-no problem.” He rubbed her back awkwardly.

 

The door opened and Mukuro sprang away, drying her eyes with her knuckles. She looked up and saw that the newcomer was Sakura. She waved, and Sakura smiled, returning the gesture. She looked over at the others. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was about.”

 

Kiyotaka laughed heartily, smacking himself on the chest. “We all need a good cry on occasion! It is good for one’s health!”

 

Hifumi grinned, the lenses of his glasses flashing as he pushed them up on his nose. “Comforting a crying girl. Clever, Makoto; it is the start of many adult-oriented doujinshi.”

 

Makoto’s eyes turned into dinner plates. “What?” he screeched, waving his hands erratically. Mukuro covered her face to hide her blush.

 

The rest of their classmates filed in over the next fifteen minutes. Byakuya was the only one who declined the meal, opting instead to make himself a cup of tea and a scone before sitting at a separate table to eat in solitude. The remaining thirteen students ate together, and for a few minutes, everything seemed normal. They talked about normal things like sports and movies. They joked. They laughed. It was nice.

 

Then the monitor sprang to life. Monokuma spoke and reality came crashing back down. “Hello, everyone! I’m getting bored, so I’ve decided to speed things up a bit. Please meet in the AV room in fifteen minutes. See you then!”

 

The television shut off, followed by the sound of something crashing to the ground and Toko screaming. Mukuro was on her feet and at the kitchen door in an instant. She opened the door, and was almost knocked to the ground when Toko shoved passed her. One hand was clasped over her mouth and nose, and she ignored everyone as she sprinted out of the cafeteria. “Wait, Toko!” Mukuro called, to no avail.

 

“I’ll see if I can catch her,” Sakura volunteered, rising to her feet and following Toko out into the hall.

 

Mukuro stepped into the kitchen and immediately felt a sneeze tickle at her nose. She pinched her nostrils closed and looked around to find the source of the irritation. It didn’t take her long. The large tin that was used to store black pepper was on the floor, and the spice had scattered across the tiles in every direction. Particles of pepper swirled in the air, trapped by the confined space.

 

“She just spilled some pepper,” Mukuro called over her shoulder. She surveyed the kitchen; it looked like Toko had been in the process of making an omelet when she’d dropped the pepper container. Mukuro turned off the stove’s burner and dumped the frying pan into the sink before stepping back into the cafeteria.

 

“Why the hell did she bolt?” Mondo asked, scratching his head.

 

“Perhaps she assumed the loud crash was someone attacking her?” Celeste suggested, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

 

Leon chuckled. “Wow, she must be real skittish!”

 

Sakura walked back into the cafeteria, shaking her head. “Toko has locked herself in her room and will not answer when I call to her.”

 

“Hopefully Monokuma won’t freak out that she’s not at the meeting,” Yasuhiro said. He looked exhausted. His clothes were disheveled, as though he’d just crawled out of bed, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

 

Deciding it would be best not to keep the homicide-loving plush-toy waiting, the group made their way to the A/V room.

 

OoOoOo

 

“Good morning everyone! I hope everyone slept well!” Monokuma greeted, waving at the gathered students.

 

“Um, Mr. Monokuma,” Aoi said, raising her hand. “Toko isn’t feeling well, I don’t think she’s going to make it to the meeting.”

 

Monokuma doubled over with laughter, slapping his knees for emphasis. “Oh, I know about Miss Fukawa. Please, do not worry about her. Let us focus on why we are here!” He spread his arms dramatically. “I realized that I have everything needed to catalyze murder except for the most important piece!”

 

“What’s that?” Mukuro asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

Monokuma looked at her as if noticing her for the first time. “My, my! Our sickly little flower is up and about! How fortunate! I was afraid you’d sleep through your entire killing school life!” He coughed, then pointed at the cardboard box that sat beside one of the computers. “The missing piece is motive, of course!”

 

“M-motive?” Chihiro said softly.

 

“Yeah, think of it like motivation!” Monokuma announced eagerly. “You can’t expect the mouse to run a maze if there isn’t any cheese at the end! So I’ve got a nice piece of cheese for each of you little mice. Be sure to check it out; it’s really gouda!” This time, when Monokuma “vanished” Mukuro managed to track his tiny body as he scurried quickly behind the tables and out the door.

 

Makoto walked over to the box and pulled out a DVD with his name scrawled across its cover in permanent marker. “It looks like there’s one here for each of us. Should we watch them?”

 

Byakuya scoffed, tightening his tie. “Indeed. I don’t believe we have a choice in the matter.” He stepped forward and retrieved his own disc before walking away to a less occupied area of the room.

 

By unspoken agreement, they all formed a line and silently retrieved their discs. One by one, everyone took a seat and inserted their DVDs into a computer.

 

Mukuro watched her screen, a nervous knot in her stomach. Motive? What did this monster think could possibly convince her to kill another person?

 

The screen remained black, but her headphones suddenly crackled to life. “You’re so cool, Mukuro!” It was the voice of a girl around her own age. It brought forth the same odd mixture of emotions that she’d felt earlier. “I wish I could fight like you, big sis! But I guess I’ll always have you to protect me! I love you soooooo much!”

 

Mukuro’s hand rose, clutching at her heart, which was suddenly hurting terribly. “Who…?”

 

Mukuro winced as a high pitched scream pierced her ears. “Big sis! Help me!” A brief pause. “I don’t know where I am, but these men are hurting me! Please, you’ve gotta save me, Mukuro! I’m scared! Please! Mukuro!”

 

The audio cut out, and words appeared on the screen in large block-letters. “What happened? Find out after graduation.”

 

She couldn’t move. Her hands were frozen, clasped over her heart. People were talking. Arguing. Shouting. But Mukuro could only sit there, staring dumbly at the screen. _Junko_. The screen wobbled and distorted as tears filled Mukuro’s eyes. “Junko…” she whimpered. A sob ripped from her throat and she doubled over, putting her head between her knees as she struggled to keep the tears in check. “Junko!”

 

Someone lightly touched her shoulder. “Mukuro, what’s wrong?”

 

Mukuro’s head snapped up to look at Kyoko. “My sister… That bastard kidnapped my sister!”

 

Kyoko’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She knelt down so that she was at eye-level with the short-haired girl. “We can’t play into his game. He wants us to panic. He wants us to lose sight of reason and do _whatever_ it takes to get out of here. You have to calm down.”

 

Mukuro glared at Kyoko. “That’s easy for you to say!” The tears were hot on her face as shook her head violently. “You didn’t have to listen to your sister screaming for you to help her! There’s no telling what they’re doing to her, and I’m trapped in here! I can’t do anything! I have to get out!”

 

“Look at me, Mukuro!” Kyoko yelled, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. Mukuro stared at her, shocked. “You’re letting him get to you! It’s exactly what he wants. Everyone in here saw that their loved-ones are in danger.”

 

“Who did you see?”

 

“My grandfather,” Kyoko replied, lowering her gaze. “I didn’t have any recollection until I saw the video, but I remember him now. He raised me.” She looked at Mukuro, her eyes hard. “I want to know what happened to him, but we have to be smart. Are you going to be okay?”

 

Mukuro took a deep, shaky breath, wiping the tears from her eyes. Her heart was still hammering, and her mind was still racing, but Kyoko had helped her plant her feet firmly back in reality. She nodded, sniffling. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks.” She paused. “Where’s Makoto?”

 

Kyoko nodded at the door. “He chased Sayaka out into the hall when she ran off.”

 

Mukuro climbed unsteadily to her feet. “I want to talk to him.” She looked at Kyoko. “Thank you, really.”

 

Kyoko smiled. “Anytime.”

 

It took Mukuro a few minutes to find Makoto and Sayaka. She stood outside the classroom, listening to the conversation between the two teens. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the handle. Makoto had chased after Sayaka. He was comforting Sayaka. When had they become so close?

 

She dropped her hand, letting it hang limply at her side. She was being stupid. Makoto was a good person; he was worried about everyone. Sayaka had a panic attack and he’d chased after her. Mukuro had a harder time seeing him _not_ doing that. Besides, it wasn’t like she was dating him. Despite how much she was deluding herself, they hardly knew each other at all. So why did she feel so jealous?

 

 Mukuro turned away from the door, teeth clenched, and stalked back to her room.

 

OoOoOo

 

Mukuro woke up, bleary-eyed, nearly ten hours later. She’d laid down for a short nap that had apparently turned into a more long-term affair. She sat up in bed, looking around in mild confusion. “What time is it?” she mumbled, looking over at Kyoko who was sitting at the desk, scribbling in a notebook.

 

Kyoko looked up from her notes. “I’m surprised you slept so long. It’s almost ten o’clock.”

 

Mukuro groaned, rubbing her eyes. That meant the water was about to be shut off, and her long sleep had left her rather thirsty. “Damn. I better run to the dining hall before it gets locked down.” She got to her feet and stretched, yawning. “I’m just getting a glass of water,” she said, noticing Kyoko moving to get up. “I think I can manage on my own.”

 

Kyoko shrugged and went back to writing, clearly absorbed in whatever it was she was doing.

 

Mukuro slipped out into the hall and made a bee-line for the cafeteria. She hadn’t bothered to look at a clock, but maybe she’d have time to grab a bite to eat if she hurried. She stopped short when she entered, locking eyes with Sakura who sat with Aoi at a table across the room.

 

Sakura lifted a hand in greeting. “Hello, Mukuro.”

 

Aoi, always energetic, waved her hand erratically. “Hey there, Mukuro! Want to join us for tea? We’ve got donuts, too!”

 

It wasn’t really what Mukuro considered to be a good dinner, but she didn’t want to seem rude. She nodded, making her way over to the table and sitting across from Sakura. “Thank you.”

 

Aoi smiled, filling a cup and handing it to her before sliding the plate of donuts across the table. “It’s nothing. You really outdid yourself with breakfast this morning, it’s the least we can do.”

 

Mukuro took a sip of tea and sighed, letting herself relax. “It’s good,” she commented, before taking a larger gulp of the piping liquid.

 

Aoi took a large bite of the donut she held in her hand. “You should try one,” she said through a mouthful of food. “I don’t know where they get these from but they’re wonderful!”

 

Sakura sighed, taking a drink from her own cup. “It’s rude to speak with your mouth full, Asahina.” Despite her words, Sakura seemed quite amused with Aoi’s antics.

 

Swallowing her mouthful, Aoi started to giggle. “Oh, Mukuro doesn’t care about something like that. Besides, there aren’t any boys around so we don’t have to keep up appearances.”

 

Mukuro rolled her eyes. “I get the feeling you wouldn’t try to keep up appearances even if there were.”

 

“I’m offended you would say such a thing, Miss Ikusaba!”  Aoi cried in mock indignation. “I am the picture of what a proper Japanese woman should be!”

 

Mukuro couldn’t help but smile at the bubbly teenager. “Alright, you win. I’m sorry I questioned you.” She picked up a donut from the tray and took a bite. “Wow,” she said, “These _are_ really good.”

 

“I told you so!” Aoi puffed up proudly. “I should know, I’m a connoisseur on all things donut.” Their conversation was derailed by the cafeteria door opening. Sayaka walked quickly through the door, heading straight for the kitchen. “Hey, Sayaka! Want some tea?”

 

Sayaka jumped violently when Aoi called out to her. She recovered quickly, turning to look at them with a strained smile plastered on her face. “No, thank you. I just came in for a glass of water.” She turned and continued on her way into the kitchen.

 

“Do you two think she’s acting a little weird?” Mukuro asked, not taking her eyes off the kitchen door.

 

“Who, Sayaka?” Aoi asked, touching her finger to her chin. “Um…Not particularly.” She licked her lips and plucked another donut from the plate.

 

Sakura put down her cup, looking thoughtful. “She has seemed a bit unsettled as of late. I imagine it has to do with the video she was shown.”

 

A light turned on in Mukuro’s head. “I don’t want to pry, so I don’t need any particulars… but were both of you shown a _video_?”

 

A shadow appeared over Aoi’s face. “Yeah. It started off really sweet, but at the end it showed my brother in handcuffs. I’m really worried.”

 

Sakura shifted in her seat. “Indeed, I was shown a video as well. Weren’t you?”

 

Mukuro shook her head. “No…Well, sort of. Some text appeared on the screen, but I only heard my sister, I never saw her.”

 

“Interesting,” Sakura said. “Do you think it perhaps has something to do with your memory loss? Could the mastermind be withholding images of your sister to prevent your recovery?”

 

Mukuro shook her head again. “That wouldn’t make much sense. If he didn’t want me to remember, why would he have me listen to the audio?” She took another swallow of tea, emptying her cup. “We don’t even know that it was that nutcase who took my memories in the first place.”

 

“Two people suffering from memory loss in a group of fifteen? It seems unlikely that it is a mere coincidence.”

 

The kitchen door opened again and Sayaka practically ran towards the exit. Something about her gait bothered Mukuro. Sayaka was concealing something. She got to feet and yawned, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m too tired to talk about this right now. Thanks for the tea, I’ll see you two at breakfast tomorrow.”

 

The two other girls gave no indication of being perturbed by her sudden retreat. They bid her goodnight, and she followed Sayaka into the hall.

 

She stayed a few feet behind the popstar, being sure to step quietly. It only took a few seconds for her to spot the reason behind Sayaka’s strange gait The handle of a kitchen knife stuck out from the waistband of her skirt.

 

Mukuro’s pulse skyrocketed. What was Sayaka doing with a knife? She stopped, clenching her eyes shut. Mukuro desperately wanted to trust her fellow students. There must be an explanation. Maybe Sayaka was just afraid? Maybe she wanted to keep the knife in her room for self-defense?

 

That line of thought ground to a halt when Sayaka stopped in front of Makoto’s room. Mukuro stopped thinking. She was on Sayaka in an instant. Her fingers curled around the other girl’s throat and she slammed her into the wall with all of her strength. “What do you think you’re doing?” she growled, loosening her grip on Sayaka’s throat so she could speak.

 

Sayaka didn’t respond, opting instead to draw her knife and thrust it blindly towards Mukuro’s exposed armpit. Using her free hand, Mukuro caught Sayaka’s wrist and twisted it until she released the knife. Sayaka screamed, and the blade hit the ground with clang. “G-get off of me, you psycho!”

 

“You must not have heard me the first time. _What are you doing_?” Mukuro’s eyes bored into Sayaka’s, and they weren’t the eyes of high school girl. They were the eyes of a killer. In that instant, Sayaka understood that Mukuro would kill her without a second thought.

 

“I’m scared!” she screamed, grasping at Mukuro’s wrist in a futile attempt to escape. “I just took the knife for self-defense!”

 

Mukuro snorted, squeezing Sayaka’s throat harder. “Then why were you bringing your self-defense tool to Makoto’s room?”

 

Tears began to form in Sayaka’s eyes. “What are you talking about. This is my room!”

 

“Bullshit!” Mukuro pulled Sayaka away from the wall only the slam her back into it. “Makoto’s room is right next to mine.”

 

Sayaka shook her head, clawing desperately at Mukuro’s arm. “Look at the nameplate,” she croaked.

 

Mukuro shifted her gaze to the nameplate, and in that instant Sayaka kicked her in the stomach. The air rushed out of her lungs and she dropped the other girl. Sayaka attempted to press her advantage, snatching the knife from the floor and rushing Mukuro. Anticipating the attack, Mukuro batted the blade aside and spun around Sayaka, extending her foot as she went.

 

Sayaka tripped over Mukuro’s foot and landed hard on the hallway floor. Mukuro was on top of her before she could react, grabbing her hands and twisting them behind her back. “Where is Makoto?” she asked angrily, twisting her arms to an uncomfortable angle.

 

The popstar screamed, bucking under the larger girl’s grip. “Get off!”

 

“Tell me where he is and I will.”

 

Sayaka continued to struggle for over a minute before she finally relented, panting. “He’s in my room.”

 

Mukuro twisted her wrists harder. “Why?”

 

Sayaka yelped and tried to pull away. “We switched rooms! I told him I was scared! That someone was trying to get into my room!”

 

“Why would that be, I wonder?” Mukuro whispered harshly, shifting her grip so that she was restraining Sayaka with one hand. With her free hand, Mukuro groped around until she found the kitchen knife. She brought it up to Sayaka’s throat, pressing the edge against her jugular. “It doesn’t really matter, does it, Sayaka?” She leaned in close, her breath tickling her prisoner’s ear. “Because you’re going to forget whatever it was you were planning, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes!” Sayaka sobbed, straining to pull away from the blade.

 

“That’s right, you are.” Mukuro pressed the blade against Sayaka’s throat until it drew blood. “You’re never even going to _think_ about killing anyone else. Do you know why?” There was a long silence. “I asked you a fucking question!”

 

“No! I mean, yes! I... I don’t know!” Sayaka was sobbing in earnest now, clearly terrified for her life.

 

Mukuro released Sayaka’s wrists and grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking her head back. “Because if you ever kill anyone, you’re not going to get out of here alive. I’ll make sure of that.” Mukuro lightly pulled the blade across Sayaka’s throat, leaving a paper-cut shallow cut in the exposed flesh. “Do you understand?”

 

“Y-yes. I u-understand.”

 

“Good!” Mukuro released Sayaka’s hair and jumped to her feet. When Sayaka didn’t move, she added, “You can get up, now.”

 

Sayaka climbed unsteadily to her feet, her shoulders shaking with sobs. “W-what n-n-now?”

 

Mukuro spun the knife between her fingers. “Go to sleep. In the morning, go back sleeping in your own room.”

 

Sayaka looked at her in disbelief, rubbing the wound on her throat. “Y-you aren’t going to t-tell anyone?”

 

“Nah.” Mukuro sighed, cracking her neck. “I’m going to give you a chance. You’re worried about your friend, or family, or whoever it was Monokuma kidnapped. I get it. You just had a mental breakdown, right?”

 

“R-right,” Sayaka said, nodding dumbly.

 

“Okay, then. We’ll never talk about this again.” She turned to walk away then stopped. “Oh, and Sayaka. One more thing.” She closed the distance between them, levelling the tip of the knife between Sayaka’s eyes. “Stay away from Makoto.”

 

OoOoOo

 

Mukuro was brushing her hair the following morning when the intercom suddenly crackled to life. “Attention everyone. A body has been discovered!” Monokuma screamed, his voice filled with ecstasy.

 

OoOoOoOo

 

**A.N. And there you have it folks! I hope I’m keeping you interested. Keep the feedback coming! Hearing from you guys really brightens my day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N. Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait. The first version of this chapter wasn’t up to snuff so I had to do significant rewrites. I hope it was worth the wait!**

***If you’re Naekusaba trash like I am (and I know you are cause you’re reading this) please check out my sister’s art blog on tumblr. She’s followed me into Danganronpa shipping hell and has done several great Naekusaba pieces, one of which is the cover art for this story on fanfiction.net! Her blog is called Sumomosketches, send her some love!**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Danganronpa, cause if I did I would make sure Pepto-bismol was my sponsor.**

**OoOoOo**

 

Mukuro’s blood ran cold. Her fingers relaxed, the hairbrush clattering into the sink. Then she was moving. Kyoko was already at the door. She made a startled sound when Mukuro shoved her bodily aside in her haste to get into the hall. She made a beeline to Makoto’s door and hammered her fist on the wood in a desperate tempo.

 

The door opened a moment later to reveal a surprised Sayaka. Of course. She’d tricked Makoto into switching rooms with her last night. Mukuro cursed, briefly fixing Sayaka with a glare before moving down the hall to Sayaka’s door.

 

“Makoto!” she said urgently, tapping her knuckles on the wood. “Makoto please open the door!” Her heart was in her throat. She was having trouble breathing. Was she having another attack? It didn’t matter. She had to know he was okay. “Makoto! Damn it, open up!” There was no answer. She rounded on Sayaka, who was staring at her, perplexed. “I swear to God if you hurt him…” Mukuro grabbed a fistful of Sayaka’s uniform and pulled her close. “Where is he?”

 

Sayaka gripped Mukuro’s arm, her eyes wide with terror. “I didn’t do anything! I swear!” She shook her head desperately.

 

“Mukuro, please calm down,” Kyoko said, touching her gently on the shoulder. “Why would Sayaka hurt Makoto?”

 

Mukuro shifted her glare to Kyoko. “Get your hand off me,” she growled through clenched teeth. “You don’t know what kind of person she is. I saw-”

 

The door to Sayaka’s room clicked and swung inward. Makoto ran out into the hall. His hair was dripping with water and matted to his head. His clothing was wet and dishevelled, sticking to him in several places. “I’m sorry, I was in the shower when the announcement came on. What-” He froze when he saw the scene in front of him. “Mukuro? What are you doing?”

 

The knot that had formed in Mukuro’s chest relaxed. For a moment, she couldn’t move; she could only stare at him dumbly. Her legs felt like they could give out at any moment. She released Sayaka and closed the distance between herself and Makoto, pulling him into a desperate embrace.

 

Makoto’s face turned bright red, but he returned the hug. “Mukuro? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

 

Mukuro couldn’t bring herself to speak. She settled for squeezing him harder and burying her face into his shoulder. She could feel his warmth. He was safe. He was alive.

 

“I believe Mukuro was concerned for your safety, Makoto.” Kyoko suggested. Her eyes flickered between the pair and Sayaka. “I believe she was distraught to find Sayaka in your room and simply assumed the worse.”

 

“Oh…” Makoto murmured. “I’m sorry, Mukuro.”

 

When he spoke, his breath tickled Mukuro’s ear and she suddenly realized how close they were. It took her several seconds to coerce her arms into releasing their grip on Makoto. She finally managed to make them let go; they fell limply to her sides. Makoto held her for a moment more before releasing his hold as well. Mukuro stepped back, staring at the ground. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

 

“No, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Makoto said, scratching his face worriedly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

 

Kyoko laughed softly. “I’m sure Sayaka would disagree with that assessment.”

 

Sayaka’s eyes widened. “No!” she waved her hands frantically. “I get it; she was just upset. She didn’t hurt me so no harm done!” Sweat stood out on the popstar’s head, and she couldn’t seem to decide which foot to stand on.

 

Mukuro grimaced, lifting her face to look at Sayaka. “No, Kyoko’s right. I shouldn’t have grabbed you. I’m sorry, Sayaka.” This only seemed to increase Sayaka’s agitation.

 

Makoto’s face turned pale. “Monokuma’s announcement! What happened?”

 

“Guys!” Mondo’s voice echoed down the hallway. “You need to come to laundry room. Pronto!”

 

OoOoOo

 

The smell of blood hung thickly in the air, metallic and sharp. The pink liquid was splattered across the floor and walls, painting a gruesome picture of struggle. Mukuro covered her nose as she walked further into the crime scene.

 

The source of the blood was sitting on top of a washing machine. Yasuhiro Hagakure’s face was frozen in a mask of agony. His shirt hung in tatter and his chest was covered in deep lacerations. His hands were pinned to the wall by two pairs of scissors, dried rivulets of blood trailed down the plaster and disappeared behind the machine. Above his head, scrawled sloppily in thick, bloody letters were two words: Bloodstain Fever.

 

Byakuya, Mondo, and Celeste were crowded around the corpse. “It appears we have our first victim. How unfortunate.” Celeste covered a smile with her hand.

 

High-pitched laughter filled the room. “Ding-ding!” Monokuma shouted. He strode through a puddle of blood, leaving smeared paw prints on the tile. “Our first blackened has made their appearance!”

 

“Yes. I believe that much is obvious,” Byakuya said coolly, adjusting his glasses.

 

Sayaka looked like she was going to be sick. “This is terrible.” She covered her mouth and turned her back on the corpse.

 

“Who found him?” Kyoko asked, leaning in to get a better look at Hiro.

 

“I did,” Mondo said. He nodded at the basket on a nearby table. “I was gonna do some laundry before breakfast.”

 

Kyoko nodded, touching her chin thoughtfully. “Why were you two out of your rooms so early?” She asked, glancing between Celeste and Byakuya. “I seem to remember that both of you are normally among the last to arrive in the morning.”

 

Celeste smiled, tilting her head to the side. “Oh my, it appears I am a suspect.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I assure you, it was not me. I was simply on my way to the cafeteria for a glass of water. The biker flagged me down while I was in the hall.”

 

Mondo nodded. “Yeah, she was the first person I saw when I ran to get help.”

 

“What about yourself, Byakuya?”

 

Byakuya scoffed. “My reasons for being out are my own. Suffice to say that ‘the biker’ also just happened to find me in the hall.”

 

A vain appeared on Mondo’s forehead. “Hey! I do have name you know!”

 

“Really? I guess you’re just not important enough for me to take note of it,” Byakuya replied.

 

Mukuro watched Mondo’s fingers curl into a fist. Byakuya clearly wasn’t used to be in a vulnerable position. If Mondo wanted to, he could break the prodigy like a piece of kindling; there would be no way for anyone present to stop him. There was tense moment of silence before Mondo’s fist relaxed and he growled, “You ain’t worth my time, pretty boy.”

 

Mukuro smirked despite the situation. Looked like the biker wasn’t all talk after all.

 

Kyoko ignored the spat. “We should wait for the others to arrive before discussing this further.”

 

“There really is no need to wait for the others.” Byakuya crossed his arms over his narrow chest, his expression pompous as ever. “The culprit is obvious.”

 

“Is that so?” Kyoko asked. “By all means, please enlighten us.”

 

Byakuya scoffed. “I am well aware that none of you could be described as coming from money, but would it be too much of a stretch for me to assume that you’ve had access to a television over the last few months?”

 

The door opened and Toko stepped inside. Her face immediately turned the color of spoiled milk. She turned on her heel and beat a hasty retreat back the way she’d come. Mukuro followed, Makoto a step behind.

 

“Toko, wait!” Mukuro called, nearly running to keep up with the other girl.

 

Toko stopped, gripping either side of her head as if in pain. “I c-can’t handle b-blood.”  


“That’s fine,” Makoto assured her. “You don’t have to go back in there.”

 

“But don’t run off,” Mukuro added. “If you pull another disappearing act people may assume the worse.”

 

Toko’s eyes widened. “W-what? I didn’t do it!” She glared at Mukuro, hugging herself. “H-How could I d-do something like that? I f-faint just at the sight of blood!”

 

It certainly didn’t seem logical that the someone as hemophobic as Toko could be capable of the vicious scene in the laundry room. Though it was entirely possible that Toko was faking her fear. “If you don’t think you can handle investigating the scene, just stay close by.”

 

“What’s g-going on?” a familiar voice asked hesitantly.

 

Mukuro looked up and locked eyes with Chihiro, who was flanked on either side by Sakura and Aoi. She sighed. “Yasuhiro is dead.”

 

Aoi and Chihiro both gasped, covering their mouths in mirror-images of one another. Sakura, on the other hand, didn’t give any indication that she was surprised beyond slightly widened eyes. “That is unfortunate. Are there any suspects?”

 

“No,” Makoto replied, shaking his head sadly. “We haven’t had time to look at the scene yet. Everyone’s still a little shocked.”

 

“Of course they are!” Aoi cried, tears standing in her eyes. “This is horrible! Who could do such a thing?”

 

Mukuro grit her teeth. She was doing a good job of putting up a front, but on the inside she felt just like Aoi. Who _would_ do something like this? It wasn’t just a murder; it was clear that whoever attacked Yasuhiro took pleasure in their assault. “We need to look at the scene more closely.” She paused, trying to think of a gentle way to word what she would say next. “It’s…messy,” she said, grimacing at how awkward the words were. “There’s a lot of blood. Just be ready for it.”

 

Chihiro looked like she was going to be sick. “I’d r-rather n-not see him… If a-at all p-possible.”

 

Makoto smiled reassuringly at her. “That’s fine. Can you keep Toko company in the meantime?”

 

Chihiro nodded her head vigorously. “Y-yes. O-of course.”

 

The scene was just as gruesome upon their return. Kyoko looked up from the splotch of blood she was examining. “How is Toko?”

 

“She’s afraid of blood. That’s why she bolted.” Mukuro pointed over her shoulder at the door. “Her and Chihiro are going to wait outside.”

 

Kyoko nodded sagely. “I see. It is unfortunate. The more sets of eyes we have the better. But I suppose it cannot be helped.” She gestured at the bloody words scrawled above Yasuhiro’s corpse. “Byakuya pointed out that these words are the calling card of an infamous serial killer. Do any of you recall someone called Genocide Jack?”

 

Mukuro had never heard the name before, but she saw the others’ faces light up in recognition. Aoi was the first to speak. “That’s right! He’s been all over the news for the past few months!”

 

“Indeed,” Sakura said. “I seem to remember he also left the words ‘Bloodstain Fever’ at all of his crime scenes.”

 

Makoto’s eyes widened. “Does that mean someone in here with us is Genocide Jack?”

 

Kyoko shook her head. “Not necessarily. As Sakura just confirmed, the details of the crimes were relatively well known. This could be nothing more than a copycat.”

 

Byakuya sneered. “It is very doubtful that we are dealing with a mere copycat killer.”

 

Mukuro looked at him. “Is that so? You know something we don’t.”

 

Byakuya adjusted his glasses. “Of course I do. Then again, that’s not much of an accomplishment given present company.”

 

“Hey!” Aoi glared at Byakuya. “This is serious! Hiro is dead and you’re making stupid jokes! What is wrong with you?”

 

“If you know something, Byakuya, can you please help us out?” Makoto implored, trying to diffuse the shouting match before it began.

 

Byakuya sighed. “Very well. I just so happened to have an interest in the cases of this particular serial killer before being scouted for Hope’s Peak Academy. By reading police files I discovered several aspects of his Modus Operandi that were not released the general public.”

 

Mondo had apparently heard the discussion and made his way over to the group. He scowled. “That’s real convenient. How’d someone like you get hold of something the pigs were trying to keep under wraps?”

 

“When you have prestigious blood and access to the necessary funds you’ll find that very few things are beyond your grasp.”

 

Mukuro could hear Mondo’s teeth grinding from three feet away.

 

“Interesting,” Kyoko said, touching her finger to her chin. “I would be interested in hearing what you learned from these files.”

 

“There are plenty of minor details that seem to line up; from a tendency to carve intricate designs into his victims’ flesh to attacking only male victims. But the most important evidence is how Yasuhiro is positioned.” Byakuya pointed to the blades that were impaled through Yasuhiro’s palms. “Genocide Jack always killed his victims by crucifying them with scissors.”

 

“So you say,” Sakura said. “But we don’t have any way of confirming these claims.”

 

Byakuya shrugged, smirking. “No, you don’t. You’ll just have to take me at my word.”

 

A moment later, the remaining students filtered into the laundry room. Mukuro was surprised to see Kiyotaka, the resident early bird, among the late arrivals. His suit was dishevelled and it was clear that he’d rushed here straight out of bed.

 

“What on Earth is going on?” Kiyotaka exclaimed, recoiling at the sight of Yasuhiro’s disfigured corpse.

 

There were several more cries of surprise from the arriving students, but the sickly-sweet voice of Monokuma cut through the chatter. “Good morning, everyone! What a beautiful turn of events!”

 

“This is fucking sick,” Leon said, covering his mouth with his hand.

 

Monokuma waved a paw at him. “Now, now. Everyone calm down. I’m sure you’re all very excited to get started with your first investigation, but we have to go over the rules first.”

 

“Investigation? Rules? What the fuck are you talking about you son of a bitch?” Mondo was visibly restraining himself from attacking the animatronic bear.

 

Monokuma laughed, clutching his stomach. “Isn’t it obvious? You have to investigate the crime scene to see if you can discover the blackened! Now I know that _none_ of you are detectives, so I’ve decided to give you a little help. Consider it a cheat code!” Monokuma dug around behind his back before producing a folder out of the ether. “Ta-da! It’s the Monokuma File!”

 

He waddled across the room to Mukuro and extended the folder to her. She looked at it warily for a moment before snatching it out of his paw. “What is this?”

 

Monokuma laughed again, shaking his head. “I know you aren’t the brightest girl on the block, but why don’t you try opening it before asking stupid questions.”

 

_You were always stupid, big sis. But stupid dogs have their uses, too._

 

Mukuro recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “I’m sorry.” She said the words without a second thought. She blinked, shaking her head. She glanced to her right to see Makoto looking at her in concern.

 

“You’ll have time to look through the folder later. For now, listen up! After a certain amount of time has passed, a class trial will begin! It is there that you will render a verdict of whodunit. If you pick correctly, only they will be punished; pick incorrectly, though, and everyone else will be punished!”

 

“What do you mean by punished?” Celeste asked.

 

Monokuma grinned, his teeth flashing. “Execution, of course.” He paused as the students gasped in shock. “You are playing a death game! Of course the stakes are life and death!”

 

“This is ridiculous!” Kiyotaka shouted. “Whoever committed this heinous act step forward immediately!”

 

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “I highly doubt it will be as easy as that.” He turned his gaze to Mukuro. “Let me see that file.” He held out his hand expectantly.

 

Mukuro ignored him, opening the folder and reading the words out loud. “The victim’s name is Yasuhiro Hagakure. Time of death was approximately 1:04. His body was discovered in the laundry room at eight fifteen by Mondo Owada. The victim was killed on top of washing machine number four.” She grimaced. “The cause of death was exsanguination caused by multiple lacerations inflicted to the body. All wounds were inflicted perimortem.”

 

“That’s sick,” Leon repeated, running his fingers through his hair.

 

“Perimortem?” Sayaka asked, confused.

 

Kyoko frowned. “It means that all of the injuries we see were inflicted before Yasuhiro died.”

 

Sakura shook her head. “This was unnecessarily cruel. Why would someone want him to linger?”

 

“Could Byakuya be right?” Makoto asked uneasily. “Could Genocide Jack be in here with us?”

 

Mondo folded his arms across his chest. “I doubt that psychopath could be a high school student. Some of his victims were grown men.”

 

 “Maybe he’s not a student?” Aoi suggested. “Maybe he’s hiding somewhere in the school?”

 

Monokuma made a buzzing noise. “Nope! The killer is definitely a student here at Hope’s Peak!”

 

Byakuya glared at him. “Since you are so sure, can we assume that you know the killer’s identity?”

 

“How else could I render judgment?” Monokuma jabbed a paw in the direction of the camera. “Of course I know! I watched the whole thing. Very brutal.”

 

“You’re telling me some teenager went on a killing spree and never got caught?” Mondo asked, glaring at the bear. “Bullshit.”

 

Byakuya laughed. “Please. I see three people in this room who could conceivably overpower an adult. And you’re stupid, but idiots get lucky every day.”

 

Mondo rounded on him. “You saying I did it you little shit?” He didn’t raise his voice, which made the question sound even more sinister.

 

Byakuya shrugged. “I’m only suggesting that it is possible. The same could be said of Makoto’s attack dog. Sakura is also a possibility.”

 

“Before we begin pointing fingers, perhaps it would be prudent to investigate the crime scene?” Kyoko asked, diffusing the situation with a single question.

 

The group fanned out, looking around the gore-splattered room. Mukuro’s eyes were immediately drawn to an open magazine that was laying on the table. It was an occult magazine. She scanned the page; it detailed a ritual that was meant to grant the evoker’s wish. Mukuro waved Makoto over.

 

“I think I know why Yasuhiro was out after dark,” she said as Makoto approached.

 

Makoto raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

 

Mukuro pointed at the article. “He was trying to perform a rite. Apparently it would grant him a wish if he succeeded.” Her finger trailed across the words. “But it needed to be performed at the stroke of midnight.”

 

Makoto nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.” He paused, then frowned and shook his head. “But why did he need to be in the laundry room? Why not just do the ritual in his dorm, where he was safe?”

 

Mukuro pursed her lips, thinking. She read a little further then grimaced, pointing at what she’d seen. “It says the ritual needs to be performed in a clean room.”

 

Makoto blinked. “So he came in here because he thought it was the cleanest room in the school?”

 

Mukuro shrugged. “He is-” She stopped, wincing. “He was a little eccentric. It seems like something he would do. Don’t you think?”

 

Makoto’s eyes flickered over to Yasuhiro’s body. “Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, his voice sad. “Let’s keep looking for clues. I hate to think that one of our friends could do this, but I want Yasuhiro to have justice.”

 

Friends, huh? Mukuro nodded. “Yeah.”

 

Mukuro went back to investigating the scene of the crime, but after several minutes of searching she was forced to conclude that there was nothing else to find. She stopped in front of Yasuhiro’s body and looked down at him.

 

She’d hardly known him, but Yasuhiro had seemed like a good guy. He was weird; there was no denying that, but he’d been nice to her.

 

_Hey, Mukuro! Let me read your palm!_

 

Mukuro winced, curling her fingers into fists to resist the knee-jerk reaction to clutch her head that always accompanied her visions. She was tired of scaring everyone. She was tired of looking weak.

 

_I promise not to charge you anything unless my predictions come true!_

Her vision swam and Yasuhiro appeared in front of her. He was translucent, and Mukuro was acutely aware that she could see Yasuhiro’s mutilated body through the specter’s chest. “Yasuhiro?” she asked softly, glancing around nervously.

 

_“Come on, let me see your hand!”_ His voice was distorted, like she was hearing him from underwater. He reached forward as if to grab her wrist but Mukuro didn’t feel anything. A moment later, he pulled his hand back, dragging an equally translucent arm.

 

Mukuro gasped, jumping to the side and whirling around. She froze. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing. “What the hell…?”

 

The ghostly Yasuhiro was holding the hand of a very disgruntled – and not to mention translucent – Mukuro Ikusaba. She was standing in the same spot that Mukuro had been standing a moment ago, but instead of a school uniform she appeared to be wearing pajamas. A laundry basket was propped on her hip, and she was glaring at Yasuhiro. _“Come on, Hagakure. I don’t have time for this.”_

 

Mukuro’s stomach was doing summersaults. She blinked, shaking her head. But the specters didn’t leave.

 

_“It’ll only take a sec,”_ Yasuhiro’s specter assured, staring at the palm of Mukuro’s double. He frowned, shifting his gaze from her palm to her eyes. _“You’ve had a hard life, haven’t you?”_

 

As the specter spoke, words flooded into Mukuro’s mind.

 

_Please! Kill me if you have to but don’t hurt my daughter!_

_Daddy? Daddy! Why aren’t you moving? Please get up!_

_No! Get away from me you fucking monster!_

_Damn Mukuro, what’s your kill count up to? You’re a fucking artist with that AK._

Mukuro’s specter jerked her hand free from Yasuhiro’s grasp. _“Nothing I can’t handle. I followed orders. That’s all.”_

Yasuhiro shook his head. When he spoke, his voice carried none of the airiness that Mukuro had come to expect from him. _“You tell yourself that over and over but it doesn’t change the truth. You’re tired of that life. You don’t want to kill people anymore.”_ He paused. His gaze shifted from her specter and for a moment Mukuro could have sworn he was looking directly at her. _“And you never will again. I’ve foreseen it.”_

 

_“You can tell all that from my palm?”_ Mukuro’s specter growled.

 

Yasuhiro grinned, scratching the bridge of his nose. _“There’s a reason I got scouted for this school.”_

A hand touched her back. “Mukuro?”

 

The specters shimmered then shattered into dust, vanishing. Mukuro blinked rapidly, shaking her head. “Huh?”

 

“You’re crying,” Kyoko said, producing a handkerchief from her jacket and offering it to Mukuro.

 

“Goddammit,” Mukuro growled, taking the handkerchief and wiping her face.

 

There was a brief pause. “Are you okay?”

 

Mukuro finished drying her eyes and handed the handkerchief back. “Yeah, thanks.” She sniffed, scratching her head sheepishly.

 

Kyoko looked as though she was going to say something but changed her mind. She nodded. “Very well. Have you discovered anything?”

 

“No,” Mukuro replied, shaking her head. “You?”

 

Kyoko nodded. “Yes, I have.” She said, holding up a clear plastic bag. “There were several strands of hair between Yasuhiro’s fingers. There is too much blood for me to determine a color, but their length has lead me to believe that our culprit could very well be a female.”

 

Mukuro frowned. “If we make the assumption that the killer has long hair, that drastically cuts down on the suspect pool. The only people it could be are Sayaka, Toko, Aoi, Sakura, Celeste and…”

 

“Me,” Kyoko added, the corner of her mouth twitching up into a smile. “However, I’m not suggesting that we take this assumption as fact. The strands of hair could have been planted here to avert suspicion.” Her eyes narrowing, Kyoko knelt in front of Yasuhiro’s corpse and reached towards his jaw. She slid one gloved finger between his slightly parted lips and fished out a damp scrap of cloth.

 

Mukuro’s eyes widened. “That’s...”

 

“Times up!” Monokuma screamed, making Mukuro jump. The bear giggled. “I’m getting bored, let’s get to the trial! Follow me!”

 

OoOoOo

 

They were lead to an elevator that took them to a new area of the school. Mukuro’s eyes flitted from one classmate to the next. Had one of them really done this?

 

The elevator lurched to a stop and the remaining fourteen students stepped into an unfamiliar room. Fifteen podiums stood in a circle at the center of the room. Mukuro grit her teeth as she saw what already occupied one of the podiums. “Why is that here?”

 

Monokuma was too busy clambering onto a raised dais to answer her. Once he was settled, he looked at her in confusion. “What?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “You mean the picture?”

 

Mukuro jabbed a finger at the picture of Yasuhiro that had been crossed out by a large pink X. “Yes, I mean that,” she snapped. “Is it really necessary?”

 

Monokuma giggled. “It didn’t seem fair to leave him out of the festivities just because he’s dead!”

 

“You’re such a fucking dick!” Mondo exclaimed.

 

Celeste sighed loudly. “I believe that we have covered this ground more than once already. I for one don’t want to be stuck in this dreary excuse for a courtroom for any longer than I need to be. Shall we proceed?”

 

The students took up positions in the circle of podiums. Mukuro found herself between Makoto and Toko. Mukuro’s gaze lingered on the writer; she looked even more distraught than before.

 

“I think the most likely subject is obvious,” Byakuya began. “Out of the entire class, there are only two students who we know nothing about. Between the two of them, only one has shown a propensity to violence.” He levelled a finger in Mukuro’s direction. “The culprit is Mukuro Ikusaba.”

 

“Pure speculation,” Kyoko countered before Mukuro could voice a protest. “Mukuro’s outburst was in defense of Makoto, and she merely incapacitated Mondo.” Kyoko shook her head. “Barring that, Mukuro has an alibi. I was up until after two o’clock this morning; Mukuro was asleep in her bed the entire time.”

 

Celeste giggled. “That may clear Mukuro of suspicion, but it in turn casts doubt on you.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “You could have easily snuck out of your room while Mukuro slept and killed Yasuhiro at your leisure.”

 

Kyoko nodded. “You are correct. I am a suspect. As are you, Celeste.”

 

“Um…” Chihiro said softly. “I-isn’t everyone a s-suspect right n-now?”

 

“Besides Mukuro, that is,” Hifumi added.

 

Kyoko shook her head, holding up a small, clear bag. “I found these hairs tangled in Yasuhiro’s fingers. I suspect that he pulled them out of his killer’s head during the attack.”

 

Aoi hit her palm with her fist. “Alright. We can just match up the hair then.”

 

“No, that won’t work,” Makoto piped in. “There’s too much blood. We can’t see the color.”

 

“Correct.” Kyoko frowned. “If we’d had more time I could have rinsed them off, but apparently Monokuma has a schedule to keep.” She shot a brief look at the monotone bear that was snoozing on the dais. “Regardless, there is one thing we can garner from these strands of hair.”

 

Mondo raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? If we can’t tell the color what good are they?”

 

Leon’s eyes widened. “They’re really long. That means the killer has long hair!”

 

Kyoko nodded. “Just so. Given present company, the odds are high that the killer was a female.”

 

“Do you really think a girl would be able to overpower a guy?” Mondo asked, looking dubious.

 

“I don’t see why not,” Leon said. “Mukuro sure knocked you on your ass.”

 

Mondo shrugged, “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. The chick hits like a truck. But I guess you’re right; I mean, Sakura could probably overpower anyone in this room.”

 

Aoi shook her head. “Sakura couldn’t have done it. She stayed in my room last night. We were up pretty late.”

 

Sakura nodded. “That is correct. We didn’t go to sleep until well after midnight.”

 

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Is there any particular reason the two of you were staying in the same room?”

 

Aoi’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve been so scared that I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. I asked Sakura to stay over.”

 

Kyoko looked thoughtful. “That narrows our list of subjects even further. As of now, only Celeste, Sayaka, Toko and myself fit the criteria. But I believe that I can narrow the list of possible subjects to one with this,” she said, holding up another baggy.

 

“Oh my, is that a piece of a uniform?” Celeste asked, her voice as sickly-sweet as ever.

 

“That is correct. It appears to be a scrap from the skirt of a sailor uniform. Yasuhiro must have torn it away during the struggle. He hid it inside his mouth to stop the killer from disposing of it.” Her eyes focused on Toko. “The fabric is purple.”

 

Toko looked around frantically, her eyes wild. “W-what!? No! I-I didn’t do i-it!” She glared at Kyoko. “C-come o-over here and l-look a-at my s-skirt! I-it’s not t-torn at a-all!”

 

“She makes a valid point,” Hifumi chimed in

 

Mukuro shook her head. “No, think about it for a second. Everyone in here got several sets of the same uniform. Assuming that Toko really did this, she could have changed and we’d have no way of knowing.”

 

Sakura nodded. “Yes, that’s true. The killer would have needed to change their clothes. Otherwise there’s no way they wouldn’t be covered in blood.”

 

“Then it’s impossible that Toko killed him.” Makoto said. “Toko nearly fainted when she walked into the laundry room.”

 

Mukuro saw the gratitude on Toko’s face. Remembering her earlier conversation with Kyoko, Mukuro spoke up. “Makoto makes a good point. Besides, for all we know the evidence we found could have been planted.”

 

Toko smiled hesitantly. “Y-yeah! Y-you guys a-are m-making too m-many assumptions!” She pointed at Kiyotaka. “H-he looks l-like he’s been u-up all night! I t-think h-he did it!”

 

Kiyotaka looked taken aback. “I-Impossible! I would never do such a thing!”

 

“You do look dishevelled today, Kiyotaka,” Mukuro said. “You’re normally dressed to the nines. What happened?”

 

Kiyotaka’s gaze fell. “I did not get much sleep last night. Something happened that upset me.”

 

“Oh really. What would that be?” Byakuya asked, his tone condescending.

 

“Last night, someone knocked on my door.” He cleared his throat, his eyes flickering around the room. He started to speak, but seemed to choke on his words. Nothing escaped his mouth but a strangled noise.

 

“Snap out of it!” Mukuro said sharply. “We don’t have time for this shit Ishimaru! I want a full report right now!”

 

Mukuro didn’t know where the words came from, but they had an immediate effect on Kiyotaka. He snapped to attention and looked Mukuro directly in the eyes. “At approximately 23:00 I received a knock on my door! I answered it to find Toko Fukawa in the hallway!” His eyes flickered to Toko. “She told me that she’d locked herself out of her room and she wanted to stay in my room until morning. I agreed, and I gave her a stern lecture for her carelessness!”

 

“Is that all you did?” Hifumi asked, a line of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth.

 

“Of course!” Kiyotaka replied, unperturbed by Hifumi’s innuendo. His face fell. “Miss Fukawa was acting very peculiar. When I was done explaining to her how dangerous leaving her room after hours was, she grabbed me by the collar of my uniform. She said,” he paused, blushing. “She said she wanted to discipline me.”

 

Toko’s face reddened. “I w-would n-never say anything l-like that to y-you!”

 

Kiyotaka looked like he was going to clam up again. “Focus Ishimaru! I asked for a report!”

 

Kiyotaka locked eyes with her again. “Miss Fukawa drew a pair of scissors and attempted to stab me in the throat.” He grabbed the collar of his uniform and pulled it down to reveal a bandage. “I was able to fend her off long enough to push her back into the hall.” He looked at his feet, ashamed. “I locked the door and ignored her as she continued to beat on my door for several minutes. I can only assume it was when she went to kill Yasuhiro.”

 

“N-no way!” Toko said. “He’s lying! I c-can’t stand t-the sight o-of blood! W-why would I t-try to k-kill s-someone by s-stabbing them?”

 

Byakuya pushed his glasses up. “If this girl really is Genocide Jack, pretending to have a blood phobia would be a perfect cover.”

 

“I’m n-not pretending!”

 

There was one way to find out. Mukuro brought her thumb to her mouth and bit down until she could taste blood. She leaned towards Toko and smeared the bloody digit across her cheek before Toko could react.

 

Toko jumped violently at the contact and recoiled, one hand rising to touch her face. “Wha-” She froze, staring at the blood on her fingers. Toko’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed into a heap on the floor.

 

“Holy shit!” Leon yelled, standing on his toes to get a better look.

 

“I-is s-she okay?” Chihiro stammered.

 

“Goddamn, Mukuro! What the fuck was that?” Mondo asked.

 

Mukuro’s face reddened. She hadn’t expected Toko to faint. After Kiyotaka’s testimony, she’d been sure that the other girl was faking her fear. “I didn’t think-”

 

“Bwahahahahahaha!” A horrifying cackle echoed through the courtroom. Its source was revealed a moment later when Toko jumped back to her feet. “I’m out again? It must be my lucky week!” She cackled again, her tongue slithering out from between her lips to hang out of her mouth.

 

“T-Toko?” Chihiro said hesitantly.

 

Toko clutched her belly as more laughter erupted from her mouth. “Kinda, but not really!” She grinned. “Some people call me Jack! But they’ve never seen my girlish figure! I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m a Jill, don’t you?”

 

“Well, this is quite a change,” Celeste said mildly. “Are we expected to believe that this is the same girl that couldn’t string two words together without stammering?”

 

Toko’s eyes flashed. “You’re lucky you’re not a boy. I love killing smart asses!” She cackled again. “To answer your question, I both am and am not Toko! I’m the part of her that she represses. I’m her desires given form!” She hugged herself, her eyes rolling back in their sockets. “Isn’t it crazy!?”

 

“Indeed, I think it’s quite obvious that you are insane,” Byakuya agreed. “I’m guessing it was you who attacked Kiyotaka?”

 

Toko giggled. “Oh, you’re talking about spikey?” Her tongue wet her lips and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah, I was feeling so hot when I woke up! I didn’t have much to go by, what with the cartoony pictures on the doors, but oh boy did I pick a winner!” Her face was red, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “I’ve always loved sharp dressers! And he looked like a screamer!” Kiyotaka attempted to stammer a response, but Toko ignored him. “I missed my maiming shot cause I was trying not to kill him yet,” she pouted, folded her arms over her chest. “He managed to push me out into the hall before I could try again.”

 

Kyoko watched Toko warily. “So you’re admitting to your attempted murder of Kiyotaka Ishimaru?”

 

Toko cocked an eyebrow at Kyoko. “What is this, a courtroom?”

 

“Um… Y-yes,” Chihiro said softly.

 

Toko threw her head back, cackling. “Oh that’s rich!” Her eyes scanned the room. “I looked all over the school and couldn’t find an exit, so I figure it’s pretty safe to assume you bunch of teenagers are my only companions.” She grinned, producing two pairs of scissors from nowhere. “I can take every last one of you, so who’s going to be my executioner?”

 

Monokuma raised one paw lazily. “Yo.” He rolled over, eveidently going back to sleep.

 

Toko grinned. “What a joke! I’m gonna have fun with all of you.” He gaze bored into Kiyotaka. “Especially you. I’ve always wanted to put a top on the bottom!”

 

“To be perfectly clear, you did kill Yasuhiro Hagakure, correct?” Kiyoko asked.

 

Toko tilted her head at Kyoko. “Who? Oh! You mean curly?” A line of drool dripped down her tongue and splashed onto the podium. “Yeah, I played with him for hours. He had such a pretty voice.” She looked at Kiyotaka. “A poor consolation to spikey over there, but it was quicker than tearing a door off its hinges. I guess curly was just unlucky.”

 

“Well,” Kyoko said calmly. “I suppose that settles things.”

 

Mukuro didn’t know what to say. Her eyes trailed up to where Monokuma was sleeping on his dais. This was his fault. She felt the sudden urge to attack him.

 

Monokuma jerked awake and looked around wildly. “Huh? What?” He observed the scene playing out below him and grinned. “It looks like you all are ready to vote! Good thing, too. I was getting so bored! Let’s get this show on the road!”

 

A wooden panel on Mukuro’s podium slid back to reveal a screen with pictures of herself and her fourteen classmates. “What do you want us to do?”

 

“Vote, of course! Touch the face of the persona you think did it.” He waved his arms erratically. “And don’t think you can get away with not voting! If a decision is not reached within fifteen seconds I’ll execute everyone!”

 

Mukuro stared down at the screen, her heart hammering in her chest. She glanced over at Makoto and winced when she saw how distraught he was. He looked like he could faint at any moment. “Damn it,” she growled, tapping the photo of Toko.

 

A large television slowly dropped from the ceiling. It flickered to life, revealing a slot machine with three Monokuma faces showing. A drumroll began to blare from the televisions speakers. The three slots began to turn. They accelerated into blurs before slowing to a stop; each showed an image Toko Fukawa.

 

The word “WINNER” flashed on the televisions screen.

 

“You got it!” Monokuma said happily, hopping down from his dais. “Let’s do this!”

 

A manacle that was trailed by a length of chain came flying out of the darkness. Toko grinned, batting the cuff away with a casual flick of her wrist. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on!” She cackled. “But this is getting fun!”

 

More chains erupted from various points around the room. Toko dodged every one of them, hopping from one foot to the other like a gymnast. Mukuro couldn’t believe she was watching the same girl that would meekly shuffle around the school.

 

It was an impressive display, but it was only a matter of time before Toko’s stamina ran out. She was a little too slow and one of the manacles closed her throat and yanked her into the stage-like area that made up most of the courtroom.

 

Toko tried futilely to cut through the chains. After several minutes she gave up. She giggled, looking around. “You got me! What’s next?”

 

A curtain at the back of the room slid open to reveal dozens of faceless mannequins. A loud bass rhythm began to blast, making the jury of students cover their ears in discomfort. “What the fuck!?” Mondo screamed.

 

“This decibel level is not acceptable in a school environment!” Kiyotaka added.

 

Mukuro cracked her eyes open and stared in disbelief as the mannequins began to run towards Toko. “What the hell?”

 

_You should see all of the toys I’m getting from the Towa group! It looks like Monaca was a good investment!_

 

Toko scissors flashed as she danced among the mannequins, heedless of the collar that hung around her neck. She cut them down one after the other, but there was always another one to take the place of the one she’d just dispatched. It didn’t take long for them to begin to overpower her. Two mannequins restrained Toko’s arms. Another loomed over her, its expressionless face staring down at her. It gripped her chin, forcing her head back.

 

The music abruptly cutout. Toko’s voice drifted across the room, the only sound in the dead silence. “This isn’t so bad…” Then her nose wrinkled, and Toko Fukawa sneezed. “What’s going on?”

 

Mukuro’s eyes widened as she saw the scissors that had appeared in the hands of every mannequin in the room. “No-”

 

The mannequin holding Toko’s chin buried its scissors into the exposed flesh of Toko’s throat, spraying its fellows in pink. Toko screamed loudly as more scissors sank into her unprotected body. “What’s happening!? Someone please help me! I’m scared!” The scissors continued to fall, never hitting anything vital.

 

The curtain that covered the back wall was pulled up once again to reveal a giant pair of scissors. “Oh my God.” Aoi said.

 

“Stop it!” Makoto screamed, taking a step forward.

 

Mukuro was beside him in an instant, her hand closing over his. “Makoto, there’s nothing we can do.” Makoto looked at her, and Mukuro’s stomach dropped when she saw the tears that were standing in his eyes.

 

Toko writhed within the crowd of mannequins, her screams growing hoarse as the giant pair of scissors made its slow approach.

 

“Don’t look, Makoto.” Mukuro couldn’t take her own advice. Her eyes were stuck on the horrific scene before them.

 

The giant scissors stopped moving, its blades poised on either side of sea that surrounded Toko. “What did I do!? I’m sorry! Please h-”

 

The scissors snapped closed and Toko Fukawa’s last words were cut short.

 

A banner fell from the ceiling with a blast of trumpets and a spray of confetti. The words Rotten Girls’ End were emblazoned on the cloth in large pink letters.

 

OoOoOo

 

**A.N. There we go! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. Sorry for the delay, and sorry for the relative shortness of this chapter. School, not to mention life in general, has kept me pretty busy. But I was able to pull myself away from watching my country implode long enough to finish this chapter up. Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

OoOoOo

 

The smell of gunpowder and burning flesh overpowered everything else. It clung to her clothes. To her hair. To her soul.

 

Mukuro stood on the cliff that overlooked what had once been Kelusha Village. Smoke drifted up from the burning houses. A cloud hung over the valley, so thick that it blotted out the sun. She wrinkled her nose, tightening the bandana that covered the lower half of her face. It didn’t help.

 

The crunch of gravel made her turn around, only to find herself staring down the barrel of a rifle. It was a cheap, assembly-line model that was held together with more tape than screws. The rifle was clutched by an equally pitiful looking boy. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Mukuro could see the bones of his ribs and hips jutting out from beneath his patchwork clothing.

 

“My f-family was down t-there! I s-saw y-you push th-that button! You k-killed them!” Tears cut tracks in the grime that covered the boy’s. His whole body shook as he screamed, the barrel of the rifle swinging wildly.

 

Mukuro’s Arabic was rusty, but she could understand what he was saying. “Yes,” she replied. “I planted the explosives and I pushed the button that detonated them.”

 

The boy glared at her. “I-I’m going to k-kill you!” he screamed, his trembling fingers gripping the rifle’s weathered stock. “I h-have to a-avenge them!”

 

The corner of Mukuro’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You can’t kill me, kid. Even if that rifle _could_ fire I’m willing to bet you don’t have what it takes to pull the trigger.”

 

“You’re a m-monster! W-why!? Why d-did you destroy my village!?” His body was shaking so badly that he appeared to be vibrating.

 

Mukuro shrugged nonchalantly. “Some politician paid my boss some money to take care of a problem. He ordered me to kill every villager I found in the valley. And as far as I’m concerned I’ve fulfilled my obligation.” She stared at him over the barrel of the rifle. “Put the gun down, kid.”

 

“H-how!? How can y-you talk about what you d-did like it’s nothing!?” Mukuro could feel the rage radiating from the boy. “M-my sister w-was two y-years o-old! My o-older brother w-was studying to b-be a doctor!”

 

Mukuro sighed. “A job’s a job, kid. It wasn’t anything personal.”

 

The boy’s finger twitched on the trigger and Mukuro reacted. She batted the barrel away and drew her sidearm, firing one bullet between the kid’s eyes. His blood splashed back, painting her uniform with pink speckles. He fell to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

 

She holstered the pistol and turned her back on corpse. Drawing a handkerchief from the pocket of her vest, she wiped the boy’s blood off her face. It was a shame that she’d had to kill him, but he hadn’t left her much of a choice. Mukuro excelled in combat, but she didn’t enjoy killing people.

 

“Mukuro…” a weak voice groaned from behind her.

 

Mukuro swung around, her eyes frantically searching for the speaker. She knew that voice! Her gaze settled on the crumpled form of Makoto Naegi. He was lying in a heap where the boy had fallen, his blood pooling on the floor around him.

 

“Makoto!” she screamed, her voice echoing in the deserted gym. She sprinted over to where he lay. She fell to her knees next to him, staring down at his body. His chest was riddled with gunshots; his shirt was stained a horrible shade of pink. Had she done this? “Makoto! What happened?”

 

Makoto looked up at her, his gaze confused. “Mukuro?” he coughed, and blood once again splattered Mukuro’s face. “Why…?”

 

Tears formed in Mukuro’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know! I thought…”

 

Makoto took a rattling breath then lay still, his eyes staring past Mukuro’s ear.

 

“Makoto!” Mukuro screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. “Makoto, please! Please wake up! I didn’t mean it!” She pulled him up from the ground and clutched him desperately to her chest. “You can’t die,” she sobbed. “Please!”

 

“Upupupu, this is just so wonderful!”

 

Mukuro’s eyes opened wide and she turned her head to glare at Monokuma. “Shut-” The words died in her throat.

 

It wasn’t the monotone bear that she’d expected. Instead, she was staring at a pink-haired girl. She wore a low-cut shirt and a red skirt; her lips were twisted into a wicked smile. “After all that work you put into keeping him alive,” she giggled, covering her mouth.  “How perfect!”

 

Mukuro slowly lowered Makoto to the floor. “You’re behind this, aren’t you?” Mukuro wasn’t sure where she knew the other girl from, but she was familiar. Something about her scared Mukuro.

 

“Upupupu, of course I am!” She advanced a few steps. “Stupid little mutt. You can’t do anything right, can you? When are you going to wake up-”

 

Mukuro launched herself at the pink-haired girl, tackling her to the ground. She wrapped her fingers around the girl’s slender throat. “It’s your fault! You’re the reason Makoto is dead!”

 

The pink-haired girl grinned, her teeth flashing. “You can’t kill me. You’re dreaming, Mukuro! Wake up!”

 

“Why!? Why are you doing this!?”

 

Her captive reached up, gently cupping her face. “Mukuro. You need to wake up.”

 

OoOoOo

 

Mukuro blinked, Kyoko Kirigiri’s concerned face slowly coming into focus. It took Mukuro a few more seconds to get her bearings; when she did, she realized that she was sitting on Kyoko’s chest, her hands wrapped around the other girl’s throat. Mukuro’s fingers relaxed and Kyoko took a grateful breath of air.

 

Kyoko stared up at Mukuro, her gloved hand still pressed against Mukuro’s cheek. “Are you awake?”

 

Mukuro’s face turned pale as she realized what had happened. She scrambled off Kyoko, stammering out an apology. Mukuro offered Kyoko her hand and helped her to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. Her heart hammered in her chest. She could have killed Kyoko if she hadn’t woken up. “I don’t know what that was. Are you okay?”

 

Kyoko tried to reply but only managed a dry cough. She rubbed her throat and tried again. “I’m fine.” She winced. “You were having a nightmare. When I tried to wake you…”

 

Mukuro sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry.”

 

Kyoko smiled, shaking her head. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. No harm done.” She coughed again. “Though you’ll excuse me if I refrain from waking you in the future.”

 

OoOoOo

 

The mood in the cafeteria was somber. No one wanted to address the elephant in the room; two of their classmates were dead, and there had been nothing they could do to stop it. Makoto appeared to be taking it the hardest. He sat next to Mukuro, chin resting on his palm, and stared blankly across the room.

 

Mukuro reached out to touch his hand but stopped, letting her arm fall into her lap. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

 

Makoto looked at her. The dark circles beneath his eyes stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin. He must not have slept last night. “I’m fine-” He broke off, shaking his head sharply. “No, I guess I’m not. It was hard finding Yasuhiro’s body…But watching Toko being executed was worse.”

 

Mukuro nodded. She could still hear Toko’s screams. “I understand…” She swallowed the lump in her throat and touched his arm. “The whole situation was horrible. But we can’t give up. We have to trust each other.” Mukuro didn’t know where the words had come from; they just seemed to bubble up from nowhere. “We can’t lose hope.”

 

Makoto smiled. “You’re right. We can make it through this.”

 

“Yeah!” Aoi yelled, banging her fist on the table. “As long as we work together we’ll be fine!”

 

Byakuya sighed audibly, rolling his eyes. “Stop spouting such nonsense. Your words are hollow.”

 

Mondo glared at him. “I’m getting real tired of your mouth, pretty boy!”

 

A petty part of Mukuro wanted to see the biker lose his temper and knock the shit out of the Togami prodigy. “What are you talking about?”

 

“After all that time you spent building comradery before, look what happened.” He folded his arms across his narrow chest. “Face it, trusting each other isn’t the answer. Someone else is going to die soon if you keep deluding yourselves.”

 

Aoi’s expression hardened. “We should work together to take the mastermind down!”

 

“You really are an idiot, aren’t you?” Byakuya said.

 

“What do you mean?” Leon asked.

 

“We’re not dealing with an ordinary criminal. Look at everything he’s done.” Celeste said. “The fact that he’s taken over a school as well-known as Hope’s Peak. Not to mention he has the means to power it and stock it with food.” Her gaze raked over the others. “And then there’s the execution…All of those animatronics. We’re dealing with a very powerful individual or group.”

 

“So what?” Makoto said. “We’ve known this guy had a lot of power from the start. If we trust each other and work together we can make it out of this!”

 

Byakuya glared at him. “You’re being ridiculous. The only way to ensure survival is to fight for yourself. Trusting others is foolish. We have no choice but to continue playing his game. It’s the only way to escape.”

 

“I can’t kill anyone else!” Mukuro was startled to hear the exclamation come from Chihiro.

 

Mondo looked across the table at Chihiro. “What are you talking about? You ain’t killed no one.”

 

Chihiro’s hands curled into fists. “Yes I did! W-we did!” She dropped her gaze. “If w-we hadn’t voted, T-Toko would still be a-alive…”

 

Mondo banged his fist on the table, making everyone jump. “Bullshit! We aren’t to blame for that shit!” He jabbed a finger at the large monitor that hung on the wall. “Everything that’s happened is on that motherfucker’s head!”

 

“Well said!” Monokuma’s sing-song voice filled the cafeteria. “But so wrong!” The monotone bear scrambled up onto the table and spread his arms grandly. “Make no mistake! You are the ones who killed Toko Fukawa!”

 

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto protested, glaring at Monokuma. Mukuro was surprised by the open hostility in Makoto’s words. She’d never seen him angry, but now she could feel the rage radiating from him in waves. “You’re the one who made us vote!”

 

“That’s right,” Mukuro said. “You threatened to kill us all if we didn’t vote!”

 

Monokuma threw his head back and cackled. “That doesn’t absolve you of your actions!” He held up his paw, the claws glinting in the light. “You were free to choose! You could have sacrificed yourself to let Miss Fukawa go! You could have refused to vote on principle! You didn’t.” He turned in a circle, pointing at each of them in turn. “You are all guilty of this.”

 

Mukuro’s eyes scanned the group, gauging their reactions. Chihiro was hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Aoi had leaned over and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl; she was speaking to her in a soft voice. Sakura was staring at her hands, which were folded neatly on the table in front of her. Sayaka’s face was downturned, her eyes hidden behind her bangs.

 

Mondo and Leon were both glaring at Monokuma, their faces a similar shade of red. Hifumi’s shoulders were slumped, and he appeared to be staring at nothing. Kiyotaka was trembling, his hands were gripping the table so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

 

And then there was Byakuya. If he was affected by Monokuma’s accusations, he gave no indication of it. He looked as though he was bored with the entire situation.

 

“You can talk all you want,” Makoto said, his voice like a gunshot in the silence that had fallen over the room. “It doesn’t change anything. You’re behind all of this.” He pointed at Monokuma. “You’re the only murderer here!”

 

Monokuma stared back at him for a moment, not making a sound. Then he started to giggle. The laughter slowly turned into the same cackle that had interrupted them before. They could only watch in shock as Monokuma laughed, gripping his sides and shaking his head as tears of mirth rolled down his furry cheeks.

 

“Hey! What the fuck are you laughing at!?” Mondo yelled, climbing to his feet.

 

Monokuma waved him away. “I’m laughing because this kid is so naive!” Monokuma’s voice took on a mocking tone. “You’re the only murderer here, Mr. Monokuma! How rich!”

 

“It’s true!” Aoi exclaimed, glaring at him. “We’re just a bunch of high schoolers! You’re the killer!”

 

Monokuma shook his head, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Pupupu. You really believe that, huh? I guess it can’t be helped. I was gonna give you kids some time to stew on what had happened, but I think it’s time I provided the next motive. Tada!” Monokuma produced a stack of folders and waved them in the air.

 

“What the fuck is it this time?” Mondo asked.

 

“Each and every one of you has a dirty secret or two.” His eyes scanned the room. They seemed to stop on Mukuro for a fraction of a second longer than anyone else. “Some of you more than others.” He began handing out the folders, stepping over food and dishes with a gracefulness that didn’t match his appearance.

 

Leon opened the folder when it was handed to him. “And why are you giving us these?”

 

Monokuma giggled. “Just so that you’re aware of what I know.” He paused. “And what I’m going to reveal if someone isn’t killed within the next week.”

 

The room fell silent once again. There it was again. The distrust.

 

When he got to Mukuro, Monokuma grinned, his teeth flashing. “You get an extra-long file, Mukuro Ikusaba.”

 

Mukuro took the folder and stared at it. Her mouth was suddenly dry. A cold sweat rose to her skin, and she was acutely aware of the blood thrumming in her ears. She didn’t know what was in the file, but she knew that it was bad. She knew that it was going to change everything.

 

She took a deep breath and opened the file, bracing herself for what was to come.

 

Name: Mukuro Ikusaba

Age: 16

Blood Type: A

Talent: Super High School Level Soldier

Background: Served for three years in the mercenary group known as Fenrir. During this time, she accumulated a confirmed kill count of 232. This count includes soldiers as well as civilians. After returning to Japan she was accepted to Hope’s Peak Academy, where she assisted the mastermind in kidnapping and imprisoning the 78th class.

 

Mukuro stared down at the words, unable to speak. It was true. It was all true. She had no memories of what was listed on the page in her hand, but she couldn’t deny how the information resonated in her mind. She had done all of it and more.

 

She raised her gaze to look at Makoto and that was when Mukuro realized that she couldn’t breathe. Mukuro dropped the file and hit herself as hard as she could in the chest. It didn’t work. She did her best to fight the panic that was rising in her chest. She grabbed Makoto’s shoulder and shook him.

 

Makoto turned to her, his expression changing from confusion to panic as he realized what was happening. “Mukuro!” His shout drew the attention of the others. He slapped her on the back, but it did nothing to restore her control over her breathing. “Sakura! Help! She’s not breathing!”

 

Sakura’s strong hand hit Mukuro between her shoulder blades. She rocked forward, almost hitting her face on the table. She desperately tried to inhale, but the blow hadn’t cleared her airway as it had before. Her vision was growing dark. How long had it been? Sixty seconds? Eighty?

 

_What did we do!? Why are you killing us!?_

_That village had at least thirty kids in it, ya know? Don’t feel even a little bad?_

_My baby! No! How could you!? You’re a monster!_

_You were a great investment, Ikusaba. Hate to see you go._

She turned her gaze to Makoto. She was dying. She knew it in the same way she knew that the file wasn’t falsified. There was no denying it. Everything was dark except for Makoto’s terrified face. He was all she could see, but that wasn’t anything new. He was the only thing she could rely on. He was her rock. He was her lifeline. He cared about her.

 

And as soon as he found out everything that she’d done he would hate her.

 

The fact that she was dying paled into comparison to this revelation. Tears filled Mukuro’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. _I’m a monster. This is for the best._ _I’m so sorry, Makoto._

 

As the darkness enveloped her, Mukuro Ikusaba did the only thing that made sense; she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

 

OoOoOo

 

**I hope everyone enjoyed! Please let me know what you think!**


	6. Author's Note

A.N. Hello everyone. I am, in fact, not dead. I’ve been extremely busy over the last year or so, but I wanted you to know that I haven’t abandoned this story. But I am facing a dilemma. The hiatus was only supposed to last for a couple of months, but here we are over a year later and I haven’t even finished the next chapter. I hate to have left you hanging for so long, and I don’t want to make you guys wait any longer. So I’m going to lay my cards on the table.

With college (and a looming career) I honestly don’t know how much time I can devote to writing. Updates could potentially start again in May or June, but I can’t guarantee a schedule. I could very well end up on another long hiatus again. I hate that things are like that, but there’s nothing I can do.

That being said, I’ve decided to make a poll.

Go to my profile at fanfiction(dot)net and cast your vote to let me know if I should update sporadically, or if I should just go ahead and post a summary so you all know what happens. (I’m more familiar with their interface, sorry if this is an inconvenience to you guys).

I’m sorry for being absent.


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